MORAL PHILOSOPHY:
TIIEORETICAL AND PRACTICAL ETIICS.
BY
JOSEPH HAVEN, D.D., L. L. D.,
PROFESSOR IN CHICAGO THEOLOGICAL SEMINARLY; LATELY PROFESSOR OF
INTELLECTUAL ANT) IMOI'AL i'PII.LOSOIPIY IN A MIIERST COLLEGE;
AUTiOI{. OF " ME.NTAL PtIlLOSOPtIY."
SHELDON & COMPANY,
NEW YORK & CHICAGO.
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HISTORY OF ANCIENT AND WODERN
PHILOSOPHY. (In press).
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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by
GOULD,ND LINCOLN,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
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_    _
II 
GIFT OF
DEAN A. S, WHITNEY
7 -  I ell",; V
PRIEFACIE.
THE present volume is the result of the author's
studies while Professor of Mental and Moral Philosophy
in Amherst College, and was originally prepared as a
course of lectures to the senior class ill that Institution.
It was intended as a sequel to the author's treatise on
Mental Philosophy. The favorable reception of that
work by the public has induced him to give this also to
the press, with the hope that it may be of service to the
cause of Education.
Few departments of science have so rich a literature
as Moral Philosophy. And yet, by general concession,
there are few good textbooks of the science. Of the
treatises now most generally in use in our schools and
colleges, some appear deficient in thorough scientific
discussion of the principles and true theory of morals;
others, again, in practical detail. In some of them,
under the title of Moral Philosophy, topics are discussed
which more properly pertain to Psychology, - as, for
example, the phenomenon of Conscience, and the probe
lems of the Will, -while the history of ethical opinion
,.,4
.T\
i'; 
PREFACE.
one of the widest and richest fields of investigation
-has almost universally been overlooked.
It has been the aim of the author to give, as far as
possible, a science of morals, and not merely a treatise
on moral subjects. With a view to this, the principles
which lie at the foundation of the science are first discussed, as concisely as may be, in the opening division
of the work; and in the subsequent division these
principles are considered in their application to the
practical duties and relations of life.
Of the several classes of duties, that class which pertains to the state — or Political Ethics - has received
in these pages a fuller discussion than is usually given
in works of this kind; yet not fuller, perhaps, than its
relative importance demands. It has seemed to the
author that the youth of a free country should be carefully instructed in the first principles of civil government, and in the rights and obligations of the citizen.
It is the proper province of Moral Philosophy, which
treats of the various duties of life, to do this.  Yet,
strange as it may seem, no branch of moral science
has probably received less attention, in this country,
than Political Ethics.                           J. H.
CHICAGO, AUGUST 1859
viaI 
CONTENTS.
INTRODU C TION.
rage
PROVINCE OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY,.. 15
DIVISION FIRST.
THEORETICAL ETHICS.
CHAPTER I.
THE NATURE OF RIGHT,.
SECTION I. - RIGHT IN ITSELF CONSIDERED,...
SECTION II. —RIGHT AS DISTINGUISHED FROM OTHER IDEAS
OF SIMILAR IMPORT,......
CHAPTER II.
THE GROUND OF RIGHT,.
CHAPTER III.
'rIE RULE OF RIGHT,
N.KTURE AND
... 21
21
23
27
.    50 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IV.
Page
.      *      *       519
THE PROVINCE OF RIGHT,.......  59
SECTION I.-WHAT IS A MORAL ACTION?....  59
SECTION II.-IN WHAT CONSISTS THE MORALITY OF ANY GIVEN
ACT?..
CHAPTER V.
FACULTIES OF MIND COGNIZANT OF RIGHT,.
CHAPTER VI.
HISTORIC SKETCH OF OPINIONS RESPECTING THE NATURE
AND GROUND OF RIGHT,.....
DIVISION SECOND.
PRACTICAL ETHICS.
PRELIMINARY ANALYSIS AND CLASSIFICATION,
PART I.
DUTIES TO SELF.
CHAPTER I.
SELF-SUPPORT,
CHAPTER II.
SELF-DEFENCE,
x
63
67
71
89
92
95 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER III.
Page
100
SELF-CONTROL,
CHAPTER IV.
SELF-CULTURE,
PART II.
DUTIES TO SOCIETY.
CHAPTER I.
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIFE,
CHAPTER II.
DJUIE llo fP AlNllNli   O LBRU lYVbiDLi.I  1...
SECTION  I. - SLAVERY DEFINED,.........
SECTION II. - SLAVERY, AS THUS DEFINED, A MORAL WRONG,
SECTION III. - EFFECT OF SLAVERY ON TIHE NATIONAL MORALS,
AND THE NATIONAL WEALTH,...
SECTION IV.-_ARGUMENTS IN FAVOR OF SLAVERY,..
CHAPTER III.
DUITIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY,........
SECTION  I.- FOUNDATION OF TIlE RIGHT OF PROPERTY,.
SECTION II.- ADVANTAGES OF THE INSTITUTION OF PROPERTY,
SECTION III.-MODES IN WHICH PROPERTY MAY BE ACQUIRED,
SECTION IV.-DIFFERENT KINDS OF PROPERTY,.. ~
SECTION V. - CRIMES AGAINST PROPERTY......
xi
104
.. 107
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY,
116
its
121
126
130
142
142
148
154
157
ioQ 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IV.
Page
167
169
170
DUTIES PERTAINING TO REPUTATION,
SECTION  I. - SLANDER DEFINED,......
SECTION  II. - WHAT THE LAW OF REPUTATION FORBIDS,
SECTION III. - REASONS FOIZ OBSERVING THE LAW OF
REPUTATION..... 
CHAPTER V.
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY,.
SECTION  I.-TRUTHFULNESS IN COMMON DISCOURSI,.
SECTION II. -VERACITY AS REGARDS PROMISES,..
SECTION III. - VERACITY IN RESPECT TO OATHIS,..
PART III.
D U T I E S TO T H E FA M I LY.
CHAPTER I.
DUTIES OF TIIE MARRIAGE RELATION,
CHAPTER II.
DUTIES OF THE PARENTAL, RELATION,.
SECTION I.-DUTIES OF PARENTS,.
SECTION II.-DUTIES OF CHILDREN, ~
xii
. 174
. 176
. 177
. 184
190
198
. 206
.. 206
. 214 
CONTENTS. E
PART IV.
DUTIES TO THE STATE.
CHAPTER I.
Page
221
22.3
228
NATURE AND FOUNDATION OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT,
SECTION  I. ORIGIN AND OBJECT OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT,
SECTION II. - FOUNDATION OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT,.
SECTION III.-HISTORIC SKETCH-DIFFERENT OPINIONS AS
TO THE NATURE OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT, 
CHAPTER II.
VARIOUS FORMS OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT,
SECTION I. - ANALYSIS OF THE SEVERAL FUNCTIONS AND
FORMS OF GOVERNMENT,.....  244
SECTION II. - HISTORICAL SKETCH OF FORMS OF GOVERNMENT, 249
CHAPTER III.
DUTIES OF THE SUBJECT TO THE STATE,
CHAPTER IV.
DUTIES OF THE STATE TO ITS SUBJECTS,
CHAPTER V.
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE,..
SECTION I. - GENERAL RELATIONS AND DUTIES OF STATES TO
EACH OTHER,.......
SECTION H. -ETHICAL RELATIONS OF REPUBLICAN STATES TO
EACH OTHER,.......
2
xiii
239
.. 243
... 271
.... m
308
308
322 
CONTENTS.
PART V.
DUTIES TO GOD.
CHAPTER I.
Page
326
OF THIE FEELINGS TOWARDS GOD,..
CHAPTER II.
OF OBEDIENCE,
CHAPTER III.
SECTION I. -OF PRAYER, -........
SECTION II. - OF THE SABBATH,.......
I.- PRESUMPTION IN FAVOR OF A SABBATH.
II.- INSTITUTION AND AUTHORIiTY OF THE SABBATH.
CONFLICT OF DUTIES,
AUTHORITIES,
xiv
.. 332
OF WORSHIP,
337
338
346
.. 350
..    363 
MORAL PIILOSOPIIHY.
INTRODUCTION.
NATURE AND PROVINCE OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY.
JMoral Philosophy, what. - Moral Philosophy is the science which treats of morals -the science of right. Natural Philosophy teaches us the laws of external nature;
Intellectual Philosophy, the laws of the human mind;
Moral Philosophy has to do with the laws of human conduct and duty.  As thus defined, it is equivalent to Ethics.
It may be termed, also, the science of duties, inasmuch as
right and duty are, as regards moral action, one and the
same.
Term used in a wider sense. -By the earlier English
writers the term Moral Philosophy was used in a much
more extended sense, to denote in general the science of
mind, in distinction from physical science - whatever
treats of intellectual in distinction from material things.
As thus employed, it includes psychology as well as other
sciences; and this use is still, to some extent, prevalent. 
NATURE AND PROVINCE
Thus many of the works of English and Scotch philoso phers on psychology are termed Mioral Philosophy. By
French writers, also, the morale is frequently placed in
contrast with the physique.
Indeed, the dividing liile between mental and moral sci ence has not, as yet, been very closely drawn, for the most
part, by those who have written upon either. Many of
our own most popular works on Moral Philosophy treat of
topics which properly pertain to psychology, as, e. g., the
nature of Conscience, the Sensibilities, the Will, and other
topics of like nature.  These are faculties of the mind,
and, as such, it pertains to psychology to explain and unfold them. Moral Philosophy, so far as it has occasion to
make use of these phenomena, must go to psychology for
the facts and the explanations, just as it must go to
astronomy for the facts and laws of planetary motion; or
to logic for the laws of thought and forms of reasoning.
Its proper office is to teach, not logic, nor astronomy, nor
psychology, but the science of right -of duty. It has to
do neither with the affections, the emotions, nor the will,
except so far as these are involved in the investigation and
statement of duty.
Intimate connection of Xental with Moral Philosophy.
-The connection between the two sciences is indeed very
intimate; and for this reason they should be all the more
carefully distinguished. The very idea of right is to be
sought among the primitive conceptions of the mind. To
perceive and judge of the right, is one of the most important oflices of the reflective power of the mind. The
16 
OF MORAL PHIIILOSOPHY.
emotions,    affections, desires, furnish a powerful  class of
motives to human action, whether right or wrong. The
will, or the power of voluntary mental action, constitutes
the basis of human accountability, and lies, therefore, at the
foundation of ethics. HIence, not improperly, the faculties
now designated have been termed, by some philosophers,
the active and moral powers of man.   Dugald Stewart
thus designates them.
In regard to the faculties now under consideration, a
correct psychology is absolutely essential to a correct science of moral duty.
In another respect, also, is the connection of the two
sciences intimate. Duty pertains, first and chiefly, not to
the external conduct, but to the responsible, intelligent
mind, whose thoughts, feeling, and volitions find their
expression in that outward conduct, and determine its
moral character. To teach me what are my duties, is to
teach me what thoughts and affections I ought to cherish;
what purposes and volitions I ought to form and put
forth; in a word, what ought to be my entire mental
activity, as exerted in the various relations of life. Mental science contents itself with ascertaining what are the
varied phenomena of mental action; moral science, while
relating chiefly to the same department of observation,i.e., the human mind,- inquires not so much what are the
laws and operations of its various faculties, as what they
ought to be.
General divisions. - The science of morals properly
divides itself into two parts - the theoretical and the
2*
17 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY.
practical. Before proceeding to discuss the various du.
ties which pertain to the well-ordered conduct of life, it is
necessary to inquire first into those general principles on
which, as a basis, morality rests, -as, e. g., the nature of
right, the ground of right, the rule of right, the province
of right, -and in what consists the moral quality of actions.
This inquiry into, and discussion of, the general principles
which lie at the foundation of morals, may be termed the
theoretical part of the science. The way will thus be prepared to take up and discuss, in their order, the several
duties that devolve on man in the various relations of life;
and this may be termed the practical part of the science.
18 
DIVISION FIRSTo
THEORETICAL ETHICS.  
TIHEORETICAL ET11ICS
CHAPTER I.
THE NATURE OF RIGHT.
~ 1.-RIGHT IN ITSELF CONSIDERED.
Essential Attributes. -The term right expresses a
simple and ultimate idea; it is, therefore, incapable of analysis and definition; nor does it, like many other ideas,
stand in need of definition in order to be understood. It
expresses an eternal and immutable distinction, inherent in
the nature of things, not the creation of arbitrary power,
whether of man or God.  Wherever there is voluntary
action of any intelligent rational being, there is always,
and always must be, a right and a wrong; and all moral
action is, of necessity, either the one or the other. The
distinction is one universally recognized. The idea of right
lies among the simplest furniture and first principles of the
human mind. It manifests itself with the dawn of reason
and intelligence. It' is not an idea of the schools, a distinetioii known only or chiefly to metaphysicia.ns; but is the
1)roperty alike of the learned and the simnple, of the child
and the philosopher. Opinions may vary widely as to 
THE NATURE OF RIGHT.
what is, and what is not, right action; what one system
or one age pronounces to be right, another system or
another age may decide to be wrong; but, as to the essential difference between the right and the wrong, as ideas, or
principles of action, no age or system was ever at a loss -
no mind, however feeble, was ever confused.
This Idea, whence derived.- It is a question of some
importance how we come by the idea of right. Some have
attributed it to fashion and education, as did Locke and
his followers; others to the laws, human or divine, which
ibrbid or sanction certain actions; others regard it as the
product of a special sense, whose office it is to take cognizance of moral distinctions, as the eye perceives color, and
the ear sound. Others again regard the idea of right as
a simple and ultimate one, and as such underived, a primary original conception of the human mind, not innate,
but connate, an elementary dictum of reason.
The universality of the idea,- its early manifestation
in childhood, prior to education, and the influence of example,- as well as the clearness and strength with which
it manifests itself, in all conditions of society, and under all
the varying circumstances of life,-these things go to show
that the idea of right is founded in the constitution of the
mind, and not derived from any source external and adventitious. Nor can those who take the opposite view
give any satisfactory account of the origin of this idea;
since, to attribute it to education, leaves the question still
open, where did the first man, the first educator, derive his
idea of it; while to ascribe it to law, human or divine, is
still wider of the mark, inasmuch as law always presupposes the right, as the foundation on which it rests. To
attribute, then, the origin or the idea of right to law, is to
place the foundation upon the building, instead of the
building upon the foundation. And as to the theory of a
22 
THE NATURE OF RIGHT.
special sense, whose office it is to take cognizance of the
right, it is sufficient to say, that there is no10 evidence of any
such special faculty of the mind, nor is any such needed.
For the further investigation of this topic, the reader is
referred to the author's treatise on Mental Philosophy, in
which the question, and its several theories, are more fully
discussed.
i 2.- RIGHT, AS DISTINGUISHED FROM OTHER IDEAS OF SIMILAR
IMPORT.
Right and Duty. -  Right and duty are not precisely
synonymous terms, yet are nearly equivalent. We are
always under obligation to do that which is right - it is
our duty.  The right in morals once ascertained, the doing
of it is, under all circumstances, a duty. Right is the
foundation of obligation, and coextensive with it. It is the
rightness of the thing that creates its binding force, and
makes it obligatory upon us. There can be no moral obligation to do what is not in itself a right thing to be done.
Still, right and duty, though coextensive, are not of
precisely the same import. Right is the abstract, in itself
considered. Duty is right, considered in relation to us as
personal agents- as doers; obligation is the binding power
of the right over us, which makes this or that a duty.
Another View. -Some writers make a further distinction
between obligation and duty than that which I have now
indicated - making obligation more comprehensive than
duty. Thus a man may be obliged, by force of circumstances, or by the laws of the land, to do what is not right.
Such is the view taken by Whewell, in his Elements of
Morality. That which is here called obligation, however,
is not really such, but rather compulsion, or necessity. No
combination of circumstances, and no power of law, can
23 
THE NATURE OF RIGHT.
create moral obligation. In morals, that, and that only,
conveys obligation which bears the high seal and impress
of right.  Whatever goes beyond this, or violates this,
whatever power and pressure of circumstances it may draw
around it, whatever sanction and authority of law, - can
never bind the conscience, or impose on the spiritual nature
of manthe restraints of a moral obligation. Law may come
in, with its sanctions and penalties, to secure the performance of the right; it may cast the heavy sword of power
into the scale that hangs in doubtful balance; or it may
require and enforce the wrong; but in neither case can it
create a moral obligation which did not previously exist.
Had there been no law, it would still have been my duty
to do the right. It is still my duty, even though the law
forbid. Obligation and duty are coextensive.
Right and Rights. - The term right varies in significance, according to its use, as an adjective, or as a
noun; or, more properly, according to its use in the singular, or in the plural.  Right is the principle that should
regulate my conduct towards others; my rights are what I
may justly expect and require from others, in their intercourse with me- what they ought to do as respects me.
That which is my right, is another's duty; and that which
is my duty, is another's right. Every right, then, has its
corresponding duty. It is my duty, for example, to obey
God; and that obedience he has a right to require. It is
my duty to obey the state in all its just and proper requirements- in all things not inconsistent with higher obligations; and this obedience the state has the right to demand
of me.  Inl like manner, all my rights look to the corre
sponding duties of others; and all my duties, to the rights
of others.
There would be no rights, were there not in the first
w
24 
THE NATURE OF RIGHT.
place such a thing as righty. From this, obligation results,
duty results, and so rights exist.
VTiew of TVhecell and others. -If, with Whewell and
others, we make rights to depend for their existence on
the laws, it follows that there are no rights except those
which society recognizes and creates through the mediuam
of law; and were there, for any reason, no longer any law,
no man would any longer have any rights;-which is by no
means the case.  Law may define and prescribe my rights;
it may enforce them, see that they are respected and observed; but it does not, and cannot, create them.  They
are founded in the principles of natural justice, and of universal and immutable right. Were there no laws - were
the institutions of society swept away-there would still be
rights, so long as there were intelligent and rational beings
in existence sustaining certain relations to each other.
Suppose, for example, two persons cast ashore upon a desert island, where, beside themselves, is no human beingwhere, of course, is no state and no law. Each of these
persons has still, by the law of nature, certain rights, inalienable from him; as, e.g., the right to his own person, his
own labor, his own property; and were the other to wrest
these from him, he would be guilty of a manifest wrong
of palpable injustice.
Those who take this view, moreover, go upon the supposition that the laws are based upon right and justice -
as unquestionably they should be, but unfortunately are
not always. There may be, in the course of human affairs, iniquitous, unjust laws; such things have been, and
will be again. Such laws, according to the view in question, however, create rights and impose duties. In such a
case I have, according to this theory, the right to demand
of others what it is not right for me to demand of them;
25 
THE NATURE OF RIGHT.
while, on the other hand, it is my duty to do what it is not
rigyht for me to do.
If it be replied, that in this case the rights supposed are
merely legal rights, and not moral ones, I answer, that, according to the theory, all rights are legal ones, and must
be first legal before they can be moral. It is the law that
creates- rights, moral or other. The morality presupposes
and depends upon the legality, as the quality presupposes
the substance. To distinguish in this manner between a
right which is merely legal, and one which, in addition to
that, is also moral, is to step back from the theory that it is
law which creates rights.
The truth is, neither right nor rights are dependent on
law for their existence. There are rights which are not
defined by law- which, possibly, are forbidden by law.
All rights exist before they are thus defined. Both my
duties and my rights depend for their existence on right;
and this again depends, not on society, nor law, but is
founded in the eternal and immutable nature of things.
The rights, so called, which are established by law, may
or may not coincide with moral rights. However this may
be, Moral Philosophy has to do, not at all with legal rights,
as such, but only with moral. With jurisprudence, as distinct from morals, it has no more to do than with constitutional law, or the science of government.
26 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
CIIAPTER II.
GROUND OF RIGHT.
Principle of Obligation.- Duty implies obligation. To
say that it is my duty to do a given thing, is to say that I
ought to do it. Were there no such thing as obligation,
there would be no such thing as duty. It is evident then,
at a glance, that the principle of obligation is an essential
element in morals: it meets us at the threshold, it lies at
the foundation of the science on which we are entering.
Such is the constitution of the human nmind, that no
sooner do we perceive a given course to be right, than we
recognize also a certain obligation resting on us to pursue
that course.  It is a conviction of the mind inseparable
from the perception of the right. Given the one, and we
cannot escape the other.
Ground of Moral Obligation. - The question arises here,
What is the ground of this oughyt? -li. what constitutes it?
What is that, in any given action, that imposes on me the
obligation to do the same?  I ought to do this and that:
WTay ought?
Whatever answer we may give to this question, we must
come back ultimately to the simple position -we ought, because it is right. The rightness constitutes the obligation.
The question, then, virtually resolves itself into thisWhat constitutes right?
This is a question of no little moment. It has received,
at different times, and by different authors, widely differ
27 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
ent answers, and these various answers constitute so many
different theories of morals. They lead us over an inter esting and most important field of inquiry, involving one
of the deepest problemns in the whole range of philosophical thought.
In the preceding chapter, I had occasion to refer to the
source —of our idea of right, and also to the question, What
constitutes our rights?  The question now before us is
quite distinct firom each of these. We are now to inquire,
not whence comes the idea of right, but what is right
itself?   not what makes rights, but what makes right?
Principal Tlteories.- The principal theories of morals, or
grounds of obligation, proposed by different writers, may
be reduced, perhaps, to these four: 1. Utility; 2. Law;
3. The nature and character of God; 4. The eternal and
immutable nature of things.  Each of these has been
regarded as the true ground on which to place the dis
tinction of right and wrong, and the consequent moral
obligation.  The two former of these, again, have each a
twofold aspect: Utility, as the ground of right, may denote either the happiness, the pleasure accruing from a
given course (which is itself a species of utility), or the
more direct advantage resulting firom it. Ori, if we place
the matter on the ground of legal enactment, the law
which makes the right and the wrong, may be nman's law,
or it may be God's.
We have, then, these divergent paths opening before us,
each proposing to conduct to the true solution of our problem, each trodden by many a mighty man in the domain
of thought: the uttilitarian theory, with its twofold aspect,
the pleasure and the advantage of the thing; the leygal
theory, twofold also, a,s of human or Divine authority; the
kheory which makes the Divine character the foundation
28 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
of right; and, finally, that which bases it on tIre immutable and eternal nature of things.
Let us, then, examine these several theories in their
order:
I. The Utilitarian.- Utility as denoting Pleasure.  Understanding by this term, in the first place, pleasure, rather
than advantage, the doctrine is this: - the reason why we
pronounce one thing right, rather than another, is, that we
find the one act to be attended, uniformly, with pleasure to
the doer; the other, with pain. One contributes to his
happiness, the other detracts fi'om it. Now, the pursuit
of happiness, it is contended, is the grand motive and
spring of all human action; and if it be once established
that the actions which we call right are such, invariably,
as to promote our happiness, no other reason need be
assigned why we thus regard them. And this, it is contended, is the case. If we select any instance of what we
call right action, we find it to be an action which is accompanied with pleasurable emotion. And this is the ground
of our approval, the reason why we pronounce the action
right.
Now, it is not to be denied, that to do right brings with
it a present satisfaction and true happiness. Such is the
constitution of our nature. The question is, whether this
tendency to produce happiness is what mnakes a given act
right.  Is the thing right because it produces happiness?
or does it promote oour happiness because it is rigyht?
WVhich is the true statement? When I pronounce some
past act of my life to be right, and approve it as virtuous,
is it because I remember that it gave me great pleasure?and when I cherish the feeling of self-reproach and remiorse, in view of past conduct, is it on the ground that
the given action was accompanied with unpleasant and
painful sensations?
3*
29 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
The Theory not satisfactory. - The simple statement of
the question would seem sufficient.  We feel instinctively
that our decision and approval rest on far other and higher
grounds. Virtue and happiness are by no means identi    cal.  We have different terms for them, and mean different
things by them. The one cannot be resolved into the
other.  If it be true that all right things are pleasant, it
does not follow that all pleasant things are right, much
less that their pleasantness makes them right. Many are
the propensities of a corrupt nature, the indulgence of
which is attended with present gratification, which still are
evil and only evil; and in their pleasantness consists the
very strength of the temptation they present. The man
who yields to the force of such temptations, however, by
no means approves the course that he pursues. He goes
to the commission of the wrong, not with a conviction
that he is doing right, but under a protest firom his con    science, and with a feeling of self-reproach and self-con    demnation.  This ought not to be, according to the theory
now under consideration. He ought rather to approve
his conduct, on the ground that he was seeking therein
his own happiness; and his self-approval ought to rise and
increase in proportion to the pleasure he receives.
As  deni oting Ial(pi)zess of the Community. -Nor is
the case mnaterially altered by substituting the happiness
of others, in place of personal happiness, as the ground of
lriglht.  No doubt right action contributes to the happiness
of the community, and swells the sumrn total of the world's
enjoyment; but is it this that constitutes the rightness of
the act? Is the noble consciousness of doing right, with
all its power to sustain the spirit of a man under thl)e pres    sure of the heaviest calamities and the gloom of the dark    est hour, merely this- the conviction that somehow, in
consequence of what he has done, men will, on the whole,
-3 0 
GROUND  OF RIGHT.
enjoy themselves better? Independent, and irrespective
of all such considerations, is there not a far nobler satisfaction in having done that which was right, in itself considered, and for its own sake?
The view now considered was the distinctive tenet of
the ancient Epicurean philosophy; and has been held, in
later times, by Hume and Shaftesbury in England, and by
their followers generally.
As denoting A(vantage. -Considering, now, utility as
denoting advantage or expediency, we come  upon somewhat different ground, -capable, however, of attack and
defence by essentially the same arguments. In fact, the
former view may be regarded as a modification of the latter;
the one specific, the other generic, in its form;-pleasure
being itself a species of advantage, at least in the opinion
of those who make it the rule of right. Hence, very generally, the advocates of the former view are advocates also
of the latter. Still the latter is, of the two, the broader
and higher ground.
Self-love, according to this view, is the grand motive of
human action. Men do what they think for their advantage. Now, it is found by experience that a certain course
of conduct is for the advantage, and the opposite for the
disadvantage, of the doer. Hence they come to regard
the one course as right, and to be pursued, -the other
as wrong, and to be avoided. In a word, it is the utility
or expediency of the thing that constitutes the ground and
reason of its rightness. Such is the doctrine of Bentham
and his followers.
And here it is admitted on all sides that virtuous action
does contribute to the advantage, in many ways, of the
doer. The question is, whether this is what makes it virtuous - whether this constitutes its rightness. Is it right
because expedient, or expedient because right?
31 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
Consequences of this Theory.- Let us see what follows
from this theory. (1) If expediency is the ground of right,
then interest and duty are identical in idea- synonymes for
the same thought. To prove a given action right, all that
is necessary is to show that it is advantageous to the doer.
The samne act performed from the same motives, with the
same spirit and intentions, is right to one man, and wrong
to another; nay, is right to one and the same man, at one
time, and wrong at another, according as it turns out for
his advantage or not. We can never be sure that we are
acting virtuously, until we know how the action is to affect
our personal interests.  Men have acted from the highest
and purest principles, yet have been in reality far firom virtuous, because what they did proved not for their own
interests. They ought, therefore, to cherish feelings of
self-reproach and remorse in view of their conduct.
(2) It follows from this theory that there is no such thing
as intentional wrong-doing. Men always act, it is said, from
the principle of self-love. They do what they think is for
their own advantage. Finding by experience that certain
actions tend to their advantage, they come to regard such
actions as right, and the opposite, for the same reason, as
wrong. What have we here for a syllogism?
Man acts always with reference to his own good. To act
with reference to one's own good, is to act right; therefore, man invariably acts right!  He may mistake, and do
what is in the end disadvantageous; but it was a mistake,
an error of judgment, and not an intentional wrong. This
is on the whole a very favorable view of things, and may
serve to relieve somewhat the sombre aspect in which the
world and poor erring human nature present themselves
to a certain class of minds. Men are not so bad, after all.
They do as well as they know how. They mean to be
selfish, and to consult their own interests; and if they
32 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
sometimes come short of duty in this respect, it is an error
of the head and not of the heart.
(3) It follows, also, that there is no such thing as disinterested vi?wtte.  Utility is the ground of rectitude, the
foundation of obligation. We ought, therefore, to give a
man credit for his conduct, just in proportion as we perceive him to have been governed throughout by a regard
to his own personal advantage. To act thus is to act right,
and to comply with the claims of duty. There can be no
virtue which springs not from this source. The more fully
a man promotes his own interests, and seeks his own personal advantage, in all he does, provided only there be no
direct violation of the rights of others, the higher esteem
ought we to cherish for that man in our hearts. On the
other hand, where an action is of such a nature that we
are not quite sure whether the man was really seeking his
own advantage, or that of others, in what he did, we ought
to withhold our approbation. 
But, strange to say, selfish as the world is, it does not so
decide. It does sensibly diminish our moral approbation
of any act, to see, or suspect even, that self-interest was the
leading motive of conduct; it heightens our admiration
and esteem, to perceive that the act was performed
without the least regard to that, but from entirely different
motives.
Contra(licts Consciousness. -And this leads us to remark, in general, that the theory under consideration contradicts the facts of consciousness.  If utility were the
ground of moral obligation, the foundation of right, then,
whenever we recognize such obligation, we should be
conscious of this element as the basis of it- should be
conscious of perceiving the tendency of the given act to
promote the personal happiness or the personal advantage
of the doer, and that our conviction of obligation in the
33 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
case arose from that circumstance; whereas, in fact, we
are conscious of no such thing, but in many cases of
directly the reverse. The sense of obligation exists, not
only irrespective of the idea of happiness or of advantage
to be derived from the given act, but often in opposition to
it; the desire of happiness, or of personal advantage, drawing us-in one direction, the sense of obligation in another.
It is not true that duty and interest are identical. We
have different names for them, we mean different things by
them. We are conscious of acting, now from one, now
firom the other, of these principles. It is not true that men
never intentionally do what they know to be wrong. This
was the capital defect in the ethical system of Socrates, and
also of Plato, who make virtue a matter of science, and sin
to be mnerely ignorance. Whose consciousness does not
testify the opposite of this? Who will not say, with
Ovid,
"Video meliora, proboque, deteriora sequor;"
or, with Euripides, "I know that what I am about to do is
evil, but desire is stronger than mny deliberations." Surely
the poets, in this case, are more nearly right thni the philosophers.  Who  has not reason to say, with Paul, "That
which I do, I allow not."
Neither is it true that we act always firom personal and
selfish considerations.  We are conscious of the opposite
conscious of doing that which is right, because it is right,
and not for the sake of personal advantage. Nor in such
cases is the verdict of conscience against us; but, on the
contrary, it is precisely such actions that draw forth the
testimony of her warmest approbation; so far fiom reproaching us for not acting with more direct and uniform
reference to our own advantage, copscience more fre
34 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
quently condemns us for having acted from no higher
principle.
We  cannot but regard the facts of consciousness, then,
as altogether at variance with the theory under consideration.
Utility as denoting Goo(s of thle greatest number. - Suppose, now, we give the term utility a still wider extension,
meaning by it, not the advantage of the indcividual merely,
but the good of the greatest number - does it become in
this sense the foundation of right and of moral obligation?  There are still insuperable objections.
In the first place, how can it always be known what will
promote the interests of the greatest number? The tendencies and results of actions are often hidden from human
perspicacity. We do not know how they will affect the
interests of any considerable number of persons.  A lI.borIious calculation of consequences would in most cases be
necessary, in order to such a conclusion; and even then we
could never arrive at certainty -never be sure that our
reasonings and conclusions were correct. We should be in
suspense, therefore, as to the morality of actions, unable to
decide whether they are right or wrong, until we could first
know their ultimate bearing on the general welfare. Such
a calculation of consequences is quite beyond the capacity
of the mass; only the more enlightened and far-seeing are
competent to form such judgments, and even they not with
any certainty. Only the few, therefore, are competent to
formn ideas of right or wrong, and apply them to human
conduct, while the vast multitude are left without any such
faiculty to guide them.
At variance with -Facts. - Furthermore, it may be justly
objected to this theory, in the form in which it is now
stated, that it is directly at variance with the facts in the
case,  As a matter of fact? we do not always calculate tho
8 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
consequences of an action before we pronounce it, in our
minds, right or wrong. We are conscious of no such procedure. We do not stop to know what bearing it is likely
to have on the public welfare. We do not raise the question at all. We neither know nor care. Instinctively we
decide as to the propriety and rightness of the given act;
we approve and condemn without reference to consequences, and on other grounds than that of expediency.
It is fatal to this theory of utility, in whatever form it is
stated, whether as referring to the happiness of the individual, or the happiness of the community- to the advantage
of the individual, or the advantage of all, that, so far from
being conscious ordinarily of any such considerations, in
our estimate of the morality of actions, we are conscious
of quite the opposite. Our moral decisions are often pronounced under circumstances which preclude the possibility
of all such prudential considerations. Narrate to a child,
just old enough to understand you, some story of flagrant
injustice and wrong - the flush of indignation, the glow of
resentment are visible at once on that cheek; the decision
of that moral nature, its verdict of disapproval and condemnation, is to be read at once in that eye, that brow,
that clenched hand -the whole mien and aspect of the miniature man. Has it been calculating the expediency and
utility of the thing- the consequences to society of what
its outraged nature condemns?
Utility presupposes Obligation.- But there is a further
objection to making utility, in any of its significations, the
ground of moral obligation. It is that all these principles
as thus applied, virtually presuppose  the existence of
moral obligation, and therefore cannot be the ground of it.
I perceive such a coursec to be conducive to happiness;
therefore, says the advocate of this view, I am under obligation to pursue that course. But why therefore? Why
.86 
GROUND OF RIGIIT.
ought?  Suppose I choose to do that which is not, on the
whole, for my happiness, -what then?  Whose business
is it but my own?  Either there is no manner of obligation in that case, or else it lies out of and back of the
principle nowv supposed.  The same may be said of utility
in the sense of advantage. It presupposes an obligation
to do what is seen to be usefil and advantageous; and
the question still remains, What is the groused of that
obligation which the doctrine of utility presupposes?
II. Thteory of Tegal E)tactment.- Let us look, now, at
the theory which places the foundation of moral obligation
on the ground of positive etactmet.  Laws have been
made, human and divine, requiring, forbidding, etc. Hence
our approval and condemnation of actions, and our conviction of obligation. The just and the unjust, the right and
the wrong, ill human conduct, are simply its conformity, or
want of conformity, to law.
Of those who take this ground, some look no higher
than to hut)ian enactment as the ground of rectitude and
the foundation of moral obligation. The laws of man
make the right and wrong of things, and are the sufficient
and ultimate standard of morals. There is no higher law.
No other reason need be given why I should do, or not
do, a given thing, than that the laws of.my country
require it.
Such, among the ancients, was the doctrine of the Soph
ists.  Plato, in the "De  Legibus," and Aristotle, in his
"Ethics," make mention of the doctrine as maintained by
some in their day.
Among the moderns, Gassendi and IHobbes are almost
the only writers of distinction who have had the.boldness
to avow, and the consistency to maintain, a doctriue at
once so shameless, so obnoxious to the common sense and
common honesty of mankind, and so destructive of the
4
37 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
first principles of morality.   Occasionally, indeed, the
spectacle is presented of some one, more patriotic than
discreet, who, in his zeal to defend the constitution and
laws of his country, so far forgets himself, in the pressure
of the exigency, as to take the general position that the
laws of the land are to us the final court of appeal, and
that we are to look no higher for authority. Even such
persons, it is to be presumed, are not fully aware of the true
nature and legitimate consequences of this doctrine, nor
of the company they keep in maintaining such a position.
They would shrink, it is to be hoped, from the doctrine,
reduced to its simple elements, and affirmed, as a principle
in ethics, that ntighyt makes righyt,- a sentiment that even
a German rationalist has pronounced infernal, - and from
the atheism that discards the Deity, and overlooks the
moral nature of man, while proclaiming human law as the
standard of morals and the foundation of right.
Objectio.? to this View. -If it were of any use to reason
against a doctrine so little deserving the name of philosophy, or the notice of a calm reply, it were sufficient, per.
haps, to ask how it is possible, on this principle, since law
is itself the source and foundation of right, to compare
one law or code with another,- those of Draco, e.g., with
those of Solon or Lycurgus; the edicts of Nero with
those of Constantine; and because one system is mild and
humane, another barbarous and inhuman, pronounce one
to be more right and just than the other? If law is i'cs
own authority; if it makes right;;f back of it there is no
appeal, no ultimate standard of rectitude,-then, of course,
everything which is once enacted, and obtains the sanction
of established law, is right and binding, no matter what it
may be, - one equally so with another, - and it is absurd
to make a distinction between them. The commands of
the veriest despot are as just and right, as obligatory on
38 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
the conscience, as those of the wisest and mildest ruler.
Law is law, and that ends the matter. A law morally
wrong is an impossibility, an absurdity. Inasmuch as
laws vary, moreover, in different lands, what is right in one
country is wrong  when you cross a river or a mountain;
what is a virtue ilk Holland is a sin in Belgium.
.)ivine Law as the grounid of Right.- Much more rea
sonable and philosophical is the view of those who regard
the divine will and law as the foundation of moral rectitude. This view was maintained by Occam, among the
scholastics -by Paley, and many others, among the modsrns. Yet even to this view insuperable obstacles arise.
Objections to tais VTiew. - 1. If this view be correct,
then wl have only to suppose the will of Deity to change,
and what is now wrong becomes instantly right, -the
good and the bad, the virtuous and the vicious, change
characters at once. We have only to suppose him other
than he is, and to have commanded other than he has, to
have reversed the decalogue; and the things now commanded would then have been wrong, and the things now
forbidden would have been right. Murder, adultery, false
witness, theft, covetousness, would have been virtues, commendable and obligatory; while to honor our parents,
and to love our neighbor as ourselves, would have been
morally wrong. In other words, there is no difference, in
respect of moral character, between these actions in themselves considered; the difference lies wholly in the fact
that one is commanded, and the other forbidden; they are
right or wrong only as they are, or are not, the will of
Deity.
It is no answer to this to say that God is holy, and
therefore will not command that which is evil; nor, that
he is immutable, and therefore will not change. The question is not as to the matter of fact, but as to what would
39 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
be true, in case he and his law were not what they are. If
it were possible for God to throw around sin the sanction
of his law, would it, because of that sanction, cease to be
sin, and become holiness? Does the rightness of an act
consist wholly and simply in its being lawful?
2. It follows, also, that, had there been no divine law to
establish the character of actions, human conduct had been
neither virtuous nor vicious, neither good nor bad; but
all actions would have been alike indifferent. To hate our
neighbor, to take his property, his good name, or his life,
would have been not only allowable, but equally as commendable and meritorious as the opposite. Nothing would
have been unjust, nothing wrong.
3. There is no propriety or sense in speaking of God's
law as just and good; in affirming that his statutes are
right, his commandments holy, etc.; for moral approbation is wholly misplaced and uncalled for. It is without
meaning. For, if there is no standard of right, and no
ground of obligation but the law itself, how can its requirements be any other than right and binding, whatever
they may be?  To say that his statutes are just and right,
is to say, simply, that his statutes are his statutes. MIore
than this: when we speak of the law as holy, just, etc., do
we not attribute a moral character to the law itself?  But
how can this be? If the law creates moral distinctions,
how can law itself possess a moral character? - how can
it be either right or wrong? This is to suppose right created, and yet to have existed before it was created.
4. Further, for the same reason, we are shut out, on this
principle, from attributing to Deity himself any moral
character. Law is the foundation of right, and law is from
God.  Back of his will thcre is no law, and, of course, no
ground of rectitude. God has himself, therefore, aside
from his own law, no moral character, no virtue; for, be
40 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
yond his own will and pleasure, there is no law imposing
obligation, and constituting for him the right and the
wrong. One thing is as right as another for him; everything is equally right; and, strictly speaking, nothing is,
for him, either right or wrong. It is language without
meaning when we say, with one of old, "Holy, holy, holy
Lord God, just and true are thy ways." Before he enacted the first law, there was no such thing as right. It
depended entirely on his pleasure whether to enact that
law. There was no obligation to enact it; for no law, as
yet, existed to create obligation.   Suppose he had not
done it? - right would not have existed, and, of course, in
that case, could not have pertained to the divine character. Not until he creates the right by making law, can
he by any possibility possess a moral character; and even
then, it is a moral character which he himself creates, and
imposes upon himself by arbitrary enactment.   IIad he
made a law precisely the reverse of the actual one, it
would have been equally right and binding, and himself
equally as holy.  But it is difficult to see how the thing
made can put the mnakor himself under obligation; how
from his own work he can derive the foundation of a character which he had not in himself prior to the work. It is
difficult to estimate the intrinsic excellence of that holi,
ness which owes its origin to a purely arbitrary enactment;
which might just as well never have been made, or have
been entirely other than, and the reverse of, what it is;-a
holiness which, when strictly viewed, amounts merely to
this, -that the being who possesses it does what he (loes.
Law as the Basis of Obligation.- It may be supposed,
perhaps, by some, that the divine law, while it may not absolutely create the distinction of right and wrong, does
nevertheless create the obligation on our part to do, or not
to do, the things required; that it is to me the sufficient
4*
41 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
reason why 1 ought to do thus and thus. This is a view
entitled to a careful consideration. I must do thus, because
such is the will of Deity. The question is now as to this
word because. Granting that the will of Deity is as
affirmed, what has that to do with my conduct? - wherein
and how does that place me under obligation to do what
the Deity wills? Where lies the binding power of the law
itself? Manifestly not in itself, as law, but in something
else. There must be something to make the law binding,
or it can bring with it no obligation to obedience on my
part. And in saying this, we really aban(lost the position,
that law is itself the basis of obligations.
This something we may find in one of three things. It
may be in the character of the law given, - a holy, just, and
good law, and one which we ought therefore to obey. But
this is to place the ground of obligation, not in the law
itself, but in something else, viz., moral rectitude. I am
bound to obey, not because there is a law, but because
there is a holy and just law.
Or we may trace the binding power of the law to the
relation which the Deity sustains to us. He is our creator,
preserver, benefactor; and as such, has the right, it is said, to
control and govern us. But does this, we reply, give him
the right to govern and control, irrespective of moral distinctions? If it does, then right and wrong are the mere
arbitrary creations of his will,-a view which we have
already considered and rejected. If it does not, then the
ultimate ground of obligation is to be found in the rectitude
of the divine requirements. In either case, it is not the
law itself that constitutes the obligation.
Does, then, that which constitutes the binding force of
the divine law consist in this: that the Deity is in himself
such a being as he is, the greatest, the wisest, the best; and
therefore his will is obligatory on other beings? This again
42 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
is to recognize moral distinctions as lying back of the law
itself, and as giving to that law its character and its force.
When you say that God is good, just, holy, the best of
beings, and, on that account, ought to be Obeyed, you
abandon the position, that law itself creates moral distinctions, and that it contains in itself the ground of obligation.
HIis being and nature are prior to his law, and the foundation of it; and if his being and nature are themselves good,
then certainly it is not his law that makes them so; and if
it is from them that our obligation to obedience springs,
then certainly not from the law itself.
Whatever view we take, then, of this matter, we are
compelled to give up the positioni that the divine law is
the ground of moral obligation. An action is right, not
because God wills it; on the contrary, he wills it because it
is right.
View of -)-. Chalmners. -The distinction between the
rightness and the lawfulness of an act, is admitted by some,
who still place obligation on the ground of law. This is
the case with Chalmners.  In general, it may be remarked,
that no writer breathes throughout a higher moral tone
and purpose, or utters truth with more eloquence and
earnestness than lihe. His style is an avalanche broken
loose, a sea of expression, rolling, sentence after sentence,
wave upon wave, with a loftiness and force quite irresistible. It is the style of the orator, however, rather than of
the philosopher; indicating fervor and strength of feeling,
rather than precision and clearness of thought. There is
a certain nobleness of sentiment that wins our admiration.
We feel sure that some leviathan is ploughing up those
waters, and making them to boil; but it is a leviathan not
willing to be caught and classified for purposes of science.
In the present case, Dr. Chalmers, if we understand him,
derives obligation from the divine law, but riyht from the
43 
GROUND OF RIGIIT.
divine character; thus separating the two. While he rejects
the view of Paley, that makes the divine command the
foundation of right, hle still makes that command the foundation of our obligation to do the right.  Not until Deity
interposes with his authority in its behalf, does the right
become obligatory.
Objection to this VTiew.-  It is difficult to perceive the
justness of this distinction. In the first place, it limits the
term obligation to a strictly fo)eissic use, a sense to which
it is by no means restricted. A wider sense belongs to it.
We are under obligation, ethl)ically speaking, to do many
things not specifically requiredI by law. But, more than
this, it seems to divorce obligation from right, as if right
did not carry in itself a corresponding obligation, but was
dependent on law to come in and give it authority; or as
if, on the other hand, obligation might somnetimes, or might
at least be supposed to, run counter to right.
Right and Obligations, how related.- We cannot think
such a distinction either necessary or allowable. On the
contrary, we regard right and obligation as coextensive, and
on a common basis. The foundation and origin of the one,
is also the source and foundation of the other. Given,
the right, and there is given along with it the obligation to
do the right. We cannot conceive them separate; the former
without the latter; a right thing which we are under no
obligation to do, or a wrong thing which we are under no
obligation to avoid. This obligation is universal, absolute.
complete. Law cannot add to it, or make it more perfect
than it already is.  Law may indicate and enforce, but cannot create moral obligation. Show me t' at a thing is right,
and you show me a reason, and the best of all reasons, why
I outght to do it.  The moment I perceive the rightness, I
perceive also the obligation. If the one is founded in law,
44 
GROUND OF RIGHIIT.
so is the other; if the divine character is the foundation of
the one, it is the ground of the other also.
Matters of ab Idifferent  Vatq -e.- It is admitted that,
in respect to matters in themselves indifferent, as, for instance, the ceremonies of a ritual observance, law may
impose an obligation not previously existing.  But such is
not the case now under consideration.  We are concerned,
in this discussion, only with such matters as come under
the cognizance of the moral faculty, as being in themselves
right or wrong; and the question is, What constitutes the
obligation to do, not a thing indifferent, but a thing which
we perceive and know to be riight? Our answer is: The
very rightness constitutes the obligation. The question returns then, On what does the 2righttness depend? Not on
utility, not on law. An action is riight, not because expedient; but expedient, because right. It is right, not because
God wills it; on the contrary, he wills it because it is right.
What, then, constitutes rightness?
III.  The.)ivinie Xcattere the Source of Right.- It may
be said that right and wrong lie not in any of these things,
- not in the pursuit of happiness or of personal advantage;
not in law, human or divine,- but in the meature and character of God himself. This, as we have already stated, is
the view of Chalmers. It is the view, also, of many others.
We have discussed so fully the previous theories, that there
is no need of dwelling long upon this. The same objections
that lie against the theory of divine law, as the source of
obligation and the ground of right, apply with equal force
to this view. God's law is but the expression of his will;
and his will is but the expression and transcript of his character. It is his nature in action. To say that his law
constitutes right, then, is virtually saying, inii another forn,
that his nature and character are the ground of right; and,
45 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
whatever objections lie against the one view, are, in reality,
equally objections to the other.
Objection to this liew. - If right or wrong depend, ultimately, on the character of God, then we have only to
suppose God to change, or to have been originally other
than he is, and our duties and obligations change at once;
-that which was a virtue, becomes a crime; that which is
a crime, is transformed into a virtue. Had he been precisely the reverse of what he is, he had still been, as now,
the source of right, and his own character would have been
as truly good, and just, and right, as it is now. This is,
virtually, to rob him of all moral character. We may still
say that he is holy, and that his ways are right; but we
mean by it only this, when we come to explain, - that he
is what he is, and does what he does. The holiness of his
acts consists, not at all in the essential character of the
acts themselves, but only in the circumstance that they are
his acts.
It does not meet this objection to say that God is'holy,
holy by a necessity of his nature, -and that he can never
be otherwise: that is not the question; but simply, whether
his being what he is is the ground of all rectitude and of
all obligation; whether that which he does is right because
it conforms to his character, or whether his character is
holy because it conforms to the right.   This is a very
important distinction.
We have this objection, then, to the view which re.
solves virtue into the divine character, and makes right
inherent originally in the divine nature: that while it
seeks to honor God by making him the source of all excellence, it really takes away from his character the highest
excellence and glory that can pertain to it - that of
confor'ming to the right.
1V.  The Eternal Nature of Things as the Ground of
46 
'I
GROUND OF RIGHT.
Right.- We seem to be driven, then, to the only remaining conclusion, that right and wrong are distinctions immutable and inherent in the nature of things. They are
not the creations of expediency, nor of law; nor yet do
they originate in the divine character.   They havo no
origin; they are eternal as the throne of Deity; they are
immutable as God himself. Nay, were God himself to
change, these distinctions would  change not.   Omnipotence has no power over them, whether to create or to
destroy. Law does not make them, but they make law.
They are the source and spring of all law and all obligationI.   Reason points out these distinctions; the moral
nature recognizes and approves theln.   God's law, and
will, and nature, are in conformity to these distinctions;
else that law were not just and right, nor that nature holy.
Our moral nature is in conformity to these distinctions;
hence we approve and disapprove, as we do, the various
actions of men. The deeds are right, not because we
approve them; on the contrary, we approve them because
they are right. They are right, not because they are commanded; but they are commanded because they are right.
Even.Deity subject to the Law of Right.-  There is a
sense in which Deity himself is subject to this eternal and
immutable law of right. There are things which it would
not be right for even Deity to do. So fully does his moral
nature approve the right and abhor the wrong, that tho
Scriptures declare it impossible for him to do evil. There
is no purity like his; no approval of the right, no condemnation and abhorrence of the wrong, so strong and
intense as his, in the whole universe. This, his moral
nature, is to him a law, the highest possible and coinceiva
ble, placing him under obligation, not indeed to another,
but to himself, to adhere ever to the eternal principles of
right, and truth, and justice,
I
47 
Y
GROUND OF RIGHT.
This View honors God. -In their anxiety to honor and
exalt the Divine Being, some have shrunk from the idea
that there is any law or obligation resting on the Deity to
do one thing rather than another,- that there is, or can be,
anything which it would be wrong for him to do. But,
which most honors and exalts God -to resolve the distinction of right and wrong into the arbitrary decisions of his
will, thus leaving him without moral character, or to
regard that distinction as immutable and eternal, extending even to the throne and will of him who layeth the
beams of his chambers in the waters, and hangeth the
earth upon nothing?   Which most honors him- to make
his nature and his will the foundation of right, or the
eternal principles of right and justice the foundation of
his character and his law? Which gives the noblest and
most exalted conception of the Divine Being? Which of
these two views imparts the loftier significance to that
sublime anthem of the angels, that goes up unceasingly
before his throne, and shall yet go up from the entire
universe: " HOLY, HOLY, HOLY Lord God Almighty, which
was, and is, and is to come?" and to that song of the
redeemed that stand upon the sea of glass: "Just and true
are thy ways, thou king of saints. Who shall not fear
thee, O Lord! and glorify thy name?"
Objection stated and answered.- It may be said, perhaps, that to make right and wrong inherent in the nature
of things, is virtually to place their foundation and origin
in God; since the nature of things depends, after all, on
him. He who made all things, is the author of their nature
also.
This objection derives its force from the somewhat
indefinite expression, "nature of things,"a p)hrase used
with great latitude of meaning. As used to denote material
objects and their qualities, it is true that both things and
48 
GROUND OF RIGHT.
the nature of things are the work of God; as used to
denote finite intelligences, the same is true,-they are the
work of the Divine Initelligence, they and their original
nature. But when we speak of things and the nature
of things, as applicable to this discussion, we do not, of
course, refer to material objects, nor yet to spiritual intelligences, but to the actions and moral conduct of intelligent
beillgs, created or uncreatedl, finite or infinite. We mean
to say, that such and such acts, of an intelligent, voluntary
agent, whoever he may be, are, in their very nature, right
or wrong.  Now, God does not create the actions of intelligent, firee agents; and, of course, does not create the nature of those actions. To say that the moral character of
an act is created by Deity, is simply to beg the question
in dispute.
The Theory asserts what. -When we say that right and
wrong are inherent, then, in the very nature of things, we
imply assert that certain courses of conduct are, in their
very nature and essence, wrong- certain others, light;
that they are so, quite independent and irrespective of the
consequences that result from them, or of the sanctions
and authority with which they may be invested; that they
are so, not because of the laws, either human or divine,
that give them force; that they would be so, were there
no law, or were it the opposite of what it is; that even the
actions of Deity himself fall within the range of this universal principle; and that it does not depend on his will,
or even his nature, much less on his power as Creator, to
establish or abolish this immutable distinction.
We say it is in the very nature of things that the whole
is greater than a part; that a straight line is the shortest
distance between two points; that two straight lines cannot enclose a space. We cannot conceive the opposite to
be true. It does not depend on the will of Deity whether
5
I
I
49 
GROUND OF RIGIIT.
these things shall be so or not. Ile does not create these
relations.  They are eternal and necessary truths.  In like
uanner, there are certain truths pertaining to the conduct
of all rational and intelligent beings,- certain moral distinctions, which we regard as immutable and eternal,inherent in the very nature of things.   And on this firm,
eternal basis rests the foundation of our moral obligation.
CHAPTER III.
THE RULE OF RIGHT.
Question stated. -What  makes a thing right is one
question, and how do we knowt it to be right, is quite
another. The former was discussed in the preceding chap.
ter; the latter is now before us. What rule have we by
which to judge of the moral quality of actions? —what
standard? - what means of information?  The decision
of the former question is not necessarily the decision also
of this. That which is the ground of right, and the basis
of moral obligation, is not, of necessity, the source of out
knowledge respecting the right, and the rule of our duty.
The An2sqer. -It is a sufficient answer to the question
before us, to say, in general, that the will of God must be
regarded as the rule of right and the standard of duty to
man. The divine will, while it is not the source and ground
of right -as already shown -is nevertheless the source
of our knowledge of right, the rule of duty to us. It does
not create right, but reveals it, makes it known. That will
itself reposes upon the right, and is conformed to it.  That
will is our law. Such is the character of the Divine Being,
i
.,) 0 
TIIE RILIE OF RIGhIT.
and such, also, our relation to him, as Creator, Governor,
Benefactor, as to make his will binding upon us, and that
law, which is holy, just, and good, our rightful and only
proper rule of action.
That Will, how   revealed.   This rule is made known to
us in various ways. It is given, first of all, in the moral
nature of man himself, who is endowed with the faculty
of distinguishing between right and wrong, and is so constituted that, by the law of his nature, he approves the
right and disapproves the wrong, whenever perceived.
It is given also in the constitution of nature, in the ordering and arrangement of things about us; which constitution and arrangement are such as to indicate clearly the
will of the Deity as to the course which we should pursue.
It is given yet more fully and clearly in that revelation
which he has made of his will in the sacred Scriptures.
I. In the Moral Ncture of lactn. -  Such is the constitution of the mind as to fit it for taking cognizance of moral
distinctions, and, what is more, for approving the right
whenever perceived, and condemning the wrong. And
this moral nature and constitution of the human mind is
firom God, and is in itself an indication of his will. It
may not,'of itself, point out with clearness and definiteness, in all cases, what actions are right, and what are
wrong; this may be, to some extent, a matter of opinion
and judgment-a matter of belief rather than of positive
knowledge; yet, within certain limits, the moral nature of
man decides without hesitation as to the character of
given actions, and approves or condemns accordingly. It
is seldom at a loss as to the great dividing lines which
separate the kingdoms of right and wrong, of crime and
duty. An instance of flagrant injustice or ingratitude,
related in the hearing of a child, or of a savage, unbiassed
by education and the restraints of civilization and society,
51
4'* 
THE RULE OF RIGHT.
calls forth at once his disapproval, and awakens his indignation at the wrong. It is the voice of nature, essentially
the same ill all climes and ages of the world, approving
the right, condemning the wrong.  It is the voice of God,
speaking through the moral nature and constitution which
he has bestowed upon his creatures. Thus it is, that they
which have not the law, "are a law unto themselves."
II. In the Consttiztio)n of Nature. - The will of the Creator is farther revealed-in the constitution and nature of
things about us. It is impossible for one of ordinary intelligence and habits of observation not to perceive a fixed
connection between virtue and happiness, vice and misery,
in the world. Certain courses of conduct are uniformly
attended with certain results.  It is the natural tendency
of a certain manner of life to produce misery and evil
consequences; it is the tendency of an opposite course to
produce opposite results. And from this alone might be
inferred, with sufficient clearness and certainty, what is
the will of the Creator, as to the course which his creatures shall pursue. These results are intended, not accidental; and they are intended as an indication of the
divine will.
A  Case supposed. -Let us suppose, for example, the
question to arise in the mind of an intelligent heathen,
having no other than the light of nature to guide him,
whether a life of sensual gratification- the indulgence,
without restraint, of the merely animal appetites- were
agreeable to the divine will. Hle finds such indulgence to
be attended with momentary gratification, followed by
subsequent misery; that it results in injury to the powers
of body and of mind; that its tendency is to suffering,
poverty, vice, crimei.  Hie observes these facts.  He perceives them to be the legitimate and inevitable results of
the constitution of nature, a part of the system of things;
'52 
THE RULE OF RIGHT."
and if hlie acknowledges the system itself to have had an
intelligent originator and designer, can lie be at a loss as
to the intention and will of that Creator in the case supposed?
It is in this way that we may learn firom the constitution
of nature what is the will of our Creator. All nature has
its laws. AIan, as a part of the great system of nature, is
no exception to the rule.  Both his physical and his spiritiial being have their laws.  These laws are to be learned,
in either case, by observing the results and tendencies of
different actions; and the laws of our moral nature, thus
ascertained, constitute what we may call a system of natural religion.
Whether this is really Law.-And here the question may
arise, whether that which we call law in such cases - as in
the expression, laws of our moral nature- is really, after
all, of the nature of law, properly so called; or whether it
is merely advice or admonition. Certain courses of conduct, it is admitted, tend to produce misery and ruin, while
other courses promote the happiness of all concerned.
This is to be construed, however, it may be said, not as a
law prohibiting and commanding, but as simply an indication, or admonition, as to the course which it is wisest and
best for us to pursue. The suffering which follows wrongdoing is not a punishment of the wrong, but simply a
warning against its future commission.
I reply: it is of no consequence to the present argument
whether it be the one or the other- whether punishment
or merely warning- whether law, or merely advice. In
either case, it is a sufficient indication of the will of the
Creator respecting the course which his creatures should
pursue. It shows plainly enough what his wishes and
instructions are -what he meant by constituting us as
he did.
53
.5* 
THE RULE OF RIGHT.
mot mere Advice. -As  a matter of fact, however, the
indications to which I refer are not merely advisory, but,
in many cases at least, prohibitory; not mere warning,
but punishment.  The  suffering comes after, and often
long after, the wrong has been done, as in the case of those
youthful follies which produce their results in subsequent
years, when the evil is accomplished, and the constitution
already hopelessly impaired. The consequences, in such
a case, are not fully known until it is already too late to
remedy the evil. Nay, the man may already have reformed, and his life may be one of active and noble useful ness; yet, nevertheless, the punishment, long delayed and
slow of approach, but sure as the established laws of the
universe, shall by-and-by overtake him. The fires which
youthful folly and vice have kindled are not always extinguished by the tears of subsequent repentance, but burn
on, slowly consuming, until the whole structure lies in
ruins. There is a point, moreover, beyond which even
reformation becomes hopeless, not to say impossible. All
further warning and admonition, in such a case, are useless; yet the suffering, which is the inevitable result of
wrong-doing, is none the less inflicted.
Now, in these cases, the misery which is consequent
upon vice cannot be intended as warning or admonition,
'for it comes too late; the evil is done. It is not advice,
but law; not warning, but penalty.   If it be said the
suffering is intended as a warning to others, I reply, so is
all punishment; but is none the less punishment on that
account.
III. In -Revelation. - The will of God is further made
known in that revelation which he has given us in the
sacred Scriptures. The sources of information already
considered are at the best impeifect and defective. There
was need of another, a more direct, a more complete and
54 
THE RULE OF RIGIIT.
explicit declaration of the divine will. In the Scriptures
we have this needed revelation.  They supply the defects
of the previous sources of information -make known to
man what he most needs  to know  respecting  himself,
his ilaker, and the uncertain future, and bring to bear
upon himn motives to obedience and a right life, such as
could be drawn from  no other source.   It cannot be
denied that man's moral nature teaches him much; much
also the constitution of things around him; and it may be
firily conceded that an honest, sincere inquirer after truth,
having no other means of information than the light thus
derived, but disposed to make the best use of the instruction thus obtained, would not be likely to go far astray in
his views of what constitutes a right course of life.
Yet, in both the sources of information already considered, there are, it must be confessed, serious deficiencies,
such as render a further and better revelation of the divine
will an absolute necessity of the race.
.M[ass's Moral Natttre -Defective. -As to the moral faculty,
while it enables us to comprehend the right and the wrong
as made known to us,-while it causes us to perceive and
feel our obligation to do the right and to avoid the wrong,
- it does not of itself point out to us precisely what our
duties and obligations are, -  precisely what is, and what is
not, the right thing - the thing to be done. This we are
left to learn, for the most part, in other ways. Conscience
is not itself, strictly speaking, a revelation.   Given, the
right, or the supposed right, and conscience holds us to it,
presses upon us the obligation, approves our obedience,
chastises our disobedience with' its scorpion lash. In regard to the question, What is duty?- what, to-day, and
for me, under present circumstances, is the right thing
to be done? -it has no special revelation to make, other
than to form a judgment, the best it can, in view of all the
55 
TIlE RULE OF RIGHT.
circumstances of the case, aided by the light of reason and
experience.
Conscience, psycliologic.tlly viewed, is in fact simply the
judgmrent, or reflective ficulty of the mind, exercised upon
nmoral themnes. As thus employed, it has no advantage of
infallibility, or absolute correctness, more than as employed
on other matters.  Hence, as in all our' judgments, so in
these, we are liable to err, we do err; we mistake the path
of duty, not seldom, even where  we seek to go right.
Now, it is just here that additional light is neededsome  clearer, more explicit revelation of duty and the
will of God.  Conscience is satisfied if only we do what
we suppose to be right; but how are we to know with any
certainty what is right?
A   Case stl)posecl.- I can conceive, for example, an
intelligent and  right-minded heathen, convinced of his
obligations to the Supreme Power, and disposed to yield
that homage and worship which are due from the creature
to the Creator, yet at a loss to know what worship would
be acceptable to Deity.  I can readily suppose him to be
satisfied of the guilt incurred by a life of sin, and of the
necessity of making  some expiation for that guilt, but
ignorant of the way in which the anger of a just God
against the evil-doer may be appeased.   I can conceive
him  interrogating conscience in vain to know what, in
these circumstances, he is to do.  Conscience has nothing
to say, except to accuse him of violated obligation, and of
ever-accumulating guilt.   What shall he do?   Shall he
offer the most costly sacrifice? - shall he cast his child into
the Ganges, or himself into the flames? The man needs
some other instruction, some other light than nature, and
reason, or his own moral sense, afford, in order to discover
the path of life.
System of X(ittture also lhsuffcient. - As respects natural
56 
THE RULE OF RIGHT.
religion, or the constitution and nature of things about us,
that, too, must be confessed, in some respects, an insuffi
cient guide, of itself, to the right course of life; and such
we find it has always proved in the history of the world.
It has never fully met and answered the wants of the
humnan mind.   Much may be learned from it, but not all
that man wishes to know. It is invaluable and yet insufficient.  It teaches only by experience; and that experience
often comes too late, -comes when the evil is done, and
there is no remedy, -as in the case of the youth who
squanders in idleness and profligacy the best years of his
life, and finds out too late the loss he has incurired. That
experience, moreover, is drawn wholly firom the presezt
world, the state of things in which we find ourselves here
placed; it knows nothing, teaches nothing, with respect to
the futture, except by inference; it gives no certain knowledge with regard to anything beyond the present life, or
whether, indeed, there is anything beyond.  I may i)ffer,
fi'om what I observe of the connection between virtue and
happiness, sin and misery, in the present life, that if there
be a future state of existence, the same law will hold there;
but I cannot kJowt this, much less that there is a future
existence. Nor can I learn, firom anything in the constitution of nature, the true remedy; or whether there is any
remedy for the evils of sin, any escape from its guilt.
These are matters which; most of all, I wish to know; yet
on these points nature is silent.
Now, the force of sinful passion, and an evil nature in
man, strengthened, as that nature and those passions are,
by indulgence and habit, must ever prove too strong for
the restraints of such a system as this.  It will keep no
nation, no age, effectually in check. And such proves to be
the case. Both the religious and the ethical systems of
the pagan world- systems which flourished in the palmiest
57 
THE RULE OF RIGHT.
days of the most cultivated and refined nations of an tiquity show conclusively that natural religion is not
enough.   Neither in the one nor the other do we find
clear and adequate conceptions of the Supreme Being, of
the future state, of the way of pardon to the erring and
the lost; neither in the one nor the other do we find any
restraining power, effective and sufficient to keep a people
or an age from the grossest corruptions and sins.  Under
all these systems, ethical and religious, the tendency of
the nations was firom bad to worse.
The Deficierncy Remedied.- Something other and better
was needed,- some more explicit revelation of the divine
will and of human duty, some influence more powerful to
restrain men from known sin, was needed, and was given.
In the sacred Scriptures we have that which we seek in
vain among the philosophies and the mythologies of the
world, - that knowledge  which  neither natural religion
nor the unaided reason and nmoril sense of man  can furnish.  It is not the province of AIoral Philosophy to unfold
and state in their order the great tiuthls made known in
revelation, much less to present the arguments by which
such a revelation is established. It is the business of Theology to do this.  It is sufficient to our present purpose to
say, that the Bible reveals God and his attributes more
perfectly than they could otherwise be known to man;
that it fully and explicitly and positively makes known his
will, that law which is to us the true rule of duty; that it
reveals in all its grandeur and power the doctrine of the
future,- a life beyond the narrow confines of the present,
in which men shall be rewarded or punished, according to
the deeds done and the character formed in the present
life; above all, that it reveals to sinful man the way of
escape from guilt and ruin, through HIM who is the way,
the truth, and the life,
58 
PROVINCE OF RIGHT.
CHAPTER IV.
PROVINCE OF RIGHT.
Two Questions.- In further discussing the science of
right, two questions present themselves. 1. What is a
mnoral action/ or, in other words, what sort of actions are
propl)erly so called? 2. In5 what consists the morality of
any given act? Where lies the virtue or the guilt of it?
These questions comprise a topic which has not been discussed in the preceding chapters, viz., the province of right.
We will take them in their order, as now stated.
~ 1.-WHAT IS A MORAL ACTION?
Not all Actio)z Moral.- What class of actions are properly called mnoral? Not all human actions. Some actions
have no moral quality. I start at the accidental falling of
a window, or discharge of a musket. A person unconsciously talks in his sleep, or in delirium, or, it may be, rises
and walks about, performs certain actions, takes the property, or perhaps the life of another, or puts an end to his
own life. These are not properly moral actions. They are
involuntary, as in the instances first mentioned, -or irrational, as in the cases last specified,- and in neither case
do we attach praise or blame to the act. It has no moral
quality.
Morality pertains to what. -Morality, the quality of
virtue or guilt, of praise or blame, pertains only to the actions of intelligent and rational beings, and only to the
voluntary actions of such beings.  By action, I mean to in
59 
PROVINCE OF RIGHT.
elude, of course, the various forms of mental activity, and
not merely the putting forth of physical power. It is not
merely when I move my limbs, raise my hand, or bring
into use some one of the bodily organs, that I act; when I
think, when I cherish an emotion, affection, or desire;
when I put forth a volition, even though the external act
should for any reason not follow that volition- in all these
cases I act. All these are so many forms of mental activity; and when we speak of moral action, it is to the activity
of the mind, primarily and chiefly, that we refer. An external bodily act is moral only so far as it involves and
proceeds from some activity of the mind. Otherwise it
has no more morality, no more desert of praise or blame,
than the movement of an axe, or hammer, or any other
mere passive instrument. The body is the instrument of
the mind.
Implies Intelligence. -A moral act is always an intelligent act. The being who performs it must be capable of
comprehending himself, and his own activity; must know
what he is about; must understand the bearing of what he
does; must act with reference to some end, and having in
view the means necessary to secure that end. Mere brute
instinct differs firom this, lacks this; works blindly; comprehends not itself, nor what it does; works from impulse,
not from intelligence. The brute is incapable of moral
action.
Implies Reason. - A moral act is always a rational act.
A mind destitute of reason may still act intelligently, may
act with reference to a given end, and adopt the means best
fitted to secure that end. The insane man does this, and
often displays no little sagacity and wisdom in the accomplishmenrit of his purposes.  He knows what he is doing,
and why he takes this or that means to accomplish his
purpose. He acts intelligently, but not rationally. Hiis
60 
PROVINCE OF RIGHT.
mnind is disordered in its action. And so far as this is the
case, he is not responsible for his actions. They are not
properly moral acts. It may be, and often is, extremely
difficult to decide in such cases whletlher, and in what
degree, the mind really is insane, and therefore irresponsible; under cover of this doubt and difficulty, many a crime
doubtless goes unpunished; but where it is evident that
reason no longer keeps her throne, by common consent the
actions of s'uch a mii-d are regarded as having no moral
character.
IrTnplies Volition. -A moral act is always, I suppose, a
voluntary act.  If any act is strictly involuntary, not proceeding firom any choice or intention of the doer, mere
accident, or mere instinct, or muscular reqiction, - as the
springing when a window falls, or the closing of the eye
when a blow is suddenly aimed at it - actions which are
not only without intention and volition, but which no pubpose or effort of will could wholly prevent, - such an act,
surely, has no moral character. It falls not within the
province of right. That only is a moral act which is vol.
untary, freely put forth of choice and purpose- which we
could have refirained fiom doing, had we chosen.
On the same principle, so far as our thoughts and emniotions are strictly involuntary, not within our 6wn control,
they cannot properly be classed among our moral acts.  It
is a principle of the plainest justice, that a man is to be
held responsible only for such actions as lie within his
power to do or not to do. No law can place me under
obligation to perform an act which it is wholly out of my
power to perform,-as, e. g., the lifting of a mountain; nor
yet to refrain from doing what I cannot possibly, by any
effort or volition of mine, avoid doing. To such acts neither
virtue nor guiltattaches- neither praise nor blame. Whatever mental activity is of this sort, strictly involuntary and
6
61 
PROVINCE OF RIGHT.
beyond our control, is to be classed in the same category
with involuntary muscular movements or contractions.
To a great extent, however, both thought and feeling are
moral acts, since indirectly, if not directly, it is in our power
to shape and control them. I cannot, indeed, by a direct
act of will, call up or prevent any thought or feeling; but
still it is in my power to determine the general course andl
direction of both. I cannot, perhaps, avoid certain emotions, in view of certain objects presented to the senses or
to the thoughts; but I can avoid the perception of those
objects; can shut the eye and the ear upon them; can fix
the thoughts upon other things, and thus avoid the emotions which they are fitted to awaken. In so far as I fail
to exert this control over my own mental activity, in so
far I am responsible; in so far the act is of a moral char
acter.
Implies a Moral Faculty.- If I mistake not, there is
still another element involved in all moral action - viz., a
capacity for perceiving moral distinctions, a power of distinguishing between right and wrong. This we may call
the moral faculty. Where this is entirely wanting, I cannot
conceive of praise or blame, virtue or guilt, as properly attaching to the conduct. Such a being is certainly not a
proper object of law, nor of reward and punishment. This
is the case with the brute, and it is the crowning difference
between the brute and man. The former has no conception
of right or wrong in conduct- no idea of obligation -no
feeling of self-approval, nor yet of regret, and remorse, for
anything it has done. The brute has no conscience, and,
for that reason, is not a moral being. If the human mind
is ever reduced to such a condition, whether in the state of
idiocy, or in certain forms of insanity, as no longer to possess the power of recognizing and feeling moral distinc
62 
PROVINCE OF RIGHT.
dons, its acts, in such a case, could not be called moral
acts: they have no moral character.
~ II. - IN WHAT CONSISTS THE MORALITY OF ANY GIVEN ACT.
Question stated.- When any act is perceived to have
a moral character, whether right or wrong, the question
may still arise, In what consists, or where lies, the moral
quality - the virtue or the guilt - of that act?  Wherein
does the virtuous act, for example, differ from any other?
This is quite a distinct question from the one discussed
in the preceding section, and deserves special considera
tion.
Does the morality pertain to the external act, the physical movement which performs what the will intends; or
does it lie in the volition, the simple act of will which immediately precedes the external act?  Or is it in the resolution, previously formed, to put forth such a volition when
the proper time shall come?  Or in the thought of the
mind which lay back of all this, and which led to the
resolution, and so to the deed?  Or, if not in any of these,
then is it to be found in the intention, or design, with
which the act is performed?
Not in the External Act. -Evidently not in the external,
physical act does the morality lie. That, in itself considered, has no moral character. The bodily organism is
merely the instrument of the intelligence, which animates
and controls its movements; and those movements, in
themselves, have no more moral character than the movements of a saw, or any other merely passive instrument.
Accordingly, the same external act, as performed by different actors and under different circumstances, may vary
exceedingly in its moral character; and that variation
63 
PROVINCE OF RIGHT.
may run through the whole scale of morality, from  the
deepest degree of guilt to the highest degree of virtue.
Let us suppose a ease - the taking of human life, for
example.  It is done in malice, or for gain.  That is murder.  It is done by the executioner, in obedience to law.
That is a simple act of justice.  It is done to save life.
That is self-defence.  It is done by accident, without design. -That is no crime.  Yet in all these cases the external act may be the same, the instrument the same, the
effect produced the same.
Evidently the moral quality lies not in the external act.
Not in the Executttive Volition.- Nor yet does the morality
pertain to those mental states which immediately precede,
and give rise to, the external act; since these are, necessarily, the same, whatever the moral character of the act.
The volition which immediately precedes and produces the
movement of the arm by which a blow is struck, is one and
the same thing, whether that blow results in murder, or
in the execution of justice, or in accidental homicide, or in
self-defence. In any case, it is simply a volition to strike
a blow by the movement of the arm.  And so, also, of the
resolution which precedes the direct volition, or effort of
the will.  Whatever imparts moral character to the act,
taken as a whole, imparts it also to these constituent elements of the act; but in themselves, neither the external
movement, nor the direct volition to move, nor the resolution or purpose to put forth such a volition, have any distinctive moral character. There is something else always
to be taken into the account before we can determine the
moral character of any of those elements which are involved in a moral act.
Consists in the Intentions.-That which gives character
to the act, and which alone determines its moral quality,
is the-intention or design with which the act is performed.
64 
PROVINCE OF RIGHT.
In the ease supposed, it was the intention of one man to
commit murder; he struck the blow for that purpose,
with that design; and this intention constitutes his guilt.
Hence he would have been really guilty of murder, in
the sight of Him who knows the secrets of the heart,
even had the blow failed to accomplish its purpose. The
intention, the design was- murder.  The intention of
another man was the simple discharge of his duty as an
officer of justice —a right intention, and so a right act.
The design of another was to defend himself, or others,
fi'om lawless violence; and if we are satisfied that this
was really his purpose, and that the act was necessary
to that end, or even that he believed it to be so, we justify
him at once from the imputation of crime. Still another
man intended by the blow merely a certain mechanical
effect; but the instrument which he wielded for that
purpose, glancing from its intended course, struck down a
bystander. The result was accidental. He who struck
the fatal blow had no such design, and this being once
ascertained, there is no longer the charge of guilt.
We act upon this Rule.- In estimating the character of
actions, we always proceed upon this principle.  We  look
at the intention, the design of the doer; we seek to know
what the person meant; and if we are satisfied that no
wrong was. intended, we exculpate him from blame; otherwise we hold him guilty.  It is not so much the actual result as the intention that we look at.  So, in respect to
our own conduct, it is not so much what was actually
accomplished, for good or ill, as what was designed and
attempted, that forms the standard by which we estimate
our own guilt or innocence - our good or ill desert. The
good man, sacrificing and toiling much for some worthy
end, but all to little purpose, consoles himself by the
reflection that his actions are to be weighed, not by their
6*
65 
.PROVINCE OF RIGHT.
success, but their design; that he deserves well who meant
and endeavored well.
Where we are satisfied, on the other hand, that an act,
however desirable in itself, is prompted by no good intention, we hesitate to assign it the rank of a virtue. A ruler
requires the loyalty, love, and obedience of his subjects.
That obedience they may render, however, not from loyalty
or love, but from fear, or the desire of gain. With such
obedience he is not satisfied. It is an obedience rendered,
not for the sake of honoring or serving the ruler, but with
a purely selfish design. There is no virtue in such obedience. The case is the same with respect to the parent and
his children, and with respect to man in his relations to the
Supreme Ruler. God looks at the heart, scans the purposes
of man; and as is the meaning and intention of the man,
so, in his sight, is the man himself.
Virtue what.- On the principle now established, we
may define morality or virtue to be the doing right, intentionally, and because it is right. That alone is strictly a
virtuous act which is done voluntarily - done as right, and
because it is believed to be right; in other word(s, which
is done from a sense of duty. Whatever neglects, overlooks, or violates this rule, whatever other character it may
possess, is not of the nature of true virtue. "That is a
virtuous action," says Chalmers, "which a man voluntarily
does on the simple ground that he ought to do it."
66 
FACULTIES OF THE MIND.
CHAPTER V.
FACULTIES O)F THE MIND COGNIZANT OF RIGHT.
To explain in detail the operations of the several mental
faculties, is the province of Psychology. To this it per.
tains to treat explicitly of the moral faculty, the power of
the mind by which it perceives and recognizes moral truth,
and also of the emotions awakened in view of such truth.
So intimately, however, are these themes related to the
Philosophy of Morals, that it seems necessary to consider
them briefly in this connection. For a more full discussion
of the nature and power of Conscience, the reader is re
ferred to the sections which treat of these topics in my
work on Mental Philosophy.
Analysis of Conscience. - When any moral act - ou
own, or that of another - is presented to our thoughts as
an object of distinct consideration, the process through
which the mind passes is somewhat peculiar, and will be
found, if I mistake not, to comprise several distinct steps
or elements, essentially the same in all cases. There is, in
the first place, an impression, or perception, more or less
clear and decided, that the act in view is a right or a
wrong act - whichever it may be - a recognition of it as
such.   This is an exercise of judgment, an intellectual
operation.   The proposition, or affirmation of the mind,
in view of the case, is "That is right," or "That is not
right."  This decision is more or less clear and positive,
in proportion as the act contemplated is more or less
strongly marked in its features and general character. In
67 
FACULTIES OF THE MIND
some cases we hesitate, and form a doubtful opinion;  in
others, the decision is instantaneous and positive.
No sooner is this decision reached, than there follows
another mental state,- the conviction or perception of
obligation in respect to the act contemplated.  The prop osition now is, "I ought," or "I ought not."  This, too, is
an intellectual process, a conviction, a judgment; not un accompanied, however, with feeling, which is the case
indeed with most of our intellectual operations.   That
which awakens intellectual activity, awakens also some
degree of feeling. Hence, we speak of feeling the truth
of a proposition, or the force of an argument; of feeling
our obligation to do this and that.  A  careful analysis,
however, will show that the feeling, in this case, is distinct
from the intellectual perception; that it succeeds, and is
based upon such perception, and derives fiomn it whatever
character and strength it possesses.
This idea of obligation, it may be further observed, relates to the past, as well as to the future. I ought to have
done, or I oughlt not to have done, this or that, - an act,
the scene of which lies among the years that are long past,
and in lands, it may be, remote. It extends also to the
actions of others. We form our opinions, and pass our
judgment, on the character and conduct of those about
whom we read or hear. These persons ought, or ought
not, to have done thus and thus.
Further Analysis.- When  the obligation to a given
course is perceived, there follows yet another state of mind,
-the approbation or disapproval of the conduct, according as it conforms to, or violates that obligation.   This
approving or condemning verdict is also an act of conscience, or the moral faculty - one of its specific and appropriate functions. Like the preceding, it is strictly, in the
first instance, an intellectual act, an exercise of judgment,
68 
COGNIZANT OF RIGHT.
a verdict given in view of the case as presented to the
understanding; followed, however, immnediately, in many
cases, with the strongest emotion. It is a verdict on which
depends much - often, everything that is of value in life.
Herein lies the power of an approving or accusing conscience.  The proposition now stands, "I have done well"
-"I have done ill;" and in that siniple verdict, calmly
rendered, but seldom reversed, lies a sustaining or condemning power, greater than that of thrones and armies
- a power that can look danger and death in the face, and
defy a world in arms- a power that can make the guilty
man tremble, though surrounded by all that wealth, and
station, and princely dignity can confer.
Summary.- These several momenta comprise the essential elements of what is usually termnled conscience, or
the moral faculty. As thus analyzed, conscience is simply
the intellect perceiving and judging of moral truth, together with a corresponding excitement of the sensibilities, in view of the objects thus contemplated. The term
is used, however, to denote not nmerely, or so much, the
act itself, the process of mind now a,nalyzed, as the power
of thus perceiving and judging.  Nor is it a power, a capability merely, which can be exercised or withheld at the
pleasure of the possessor.  It is more thai that-a constitution of the mind in virtue of which it shta, under ordinary
circunmstances, perceive, and feel, and act thus - shall recognize such distinctions and obligations, and shall, in view
of the same, pronounce such verdicts.
Psychologically viewed, it is not so much a distinct faculty of the mind, coordinate with perception, memory, imagination, etc., as a distinct exercise, or department of action,
of the general faculty of judglment, and of the power of
feeling, as employed with reference to one particular class
69 
FACULTIES OF THE MIND.
of truth, viz., moral. The mind is so constituted, that in
view of such truth, it shall act as now stated, recognizing
the right and the wrong of human conduct, measuring its
actions and those of others by this standard, and approving or condemning accordingly. This power we call the
moral faculty.
Authority of Conscience.- With regard to the authority of this faculty, it is evident that, with the view now
given of the nature of conscience, it is impossible to consider it as in any sense an infallible guide. It is a moral
judgment, accompanied by a moral feeling, and, like all
other judgments and feelings, is liable to err. It is, in this
respect, on the same footing with all the other powers of
the human mind. Not one of them is infallible. A man
may act conscientiously, and still be in the wrong. His
judgments are not sure to be right. At the best, he is
liable to err;-and the fact that he goes according to the
dictates of his conscience, does not free him from this liability. He must, indeed, abide by the decisions of conscience, and govern his conduct accordingly; but he must
see to it that those decisions are intelligently formed. He
must bow to the authority of conscience; but he must also
take heed that his conscience is not a blind guide, but one
on whose eye and on whose path falls the clear light of
nature and of reason, and the still purer light of God's
word.
70 
NATURE AND GROUND OF RIGHT.
CHAPTER VI.
HISTORIC SKETCH OF OPINIONS RESPECTING THE NATURE
AND GROUND OF RIGHT.
IT is often of the highest service, in our investigation of
truth, to know the opinions which have been held by oth
ers, and the results at which other minds have arrived, as
regards the matters in question. Especially is this the
case with regard to the questions which have occupied us
in the preceding chapters. A brief outline of the various
opinions which have been held by writers of different
periods, both ancient and modern, as to the nature and
foundation of right, may give us a clearer view of the
matter discussed, and serve to fix in our minds the principles advanced in the preceding chapters. We begin
with the philosophy of the ancients.
Doctrine of Socrates.- Socrates may be regarded as
the first of the ancient philosophers who gave special
attention to the nature of virtue. His teachings lay the
foundation of scientific ethics; but only the foundation.
His doctrine of right is a peculiar one.  Virtue is nearly
synonymous with knowledge, in the Socratic system. The
doing, is consequent upon the knowing, of what is good,
and best to be done. Nothing is virtuous in conduct,
which is done without discernment. Hence, no man is
voluntarily vicious. He does as well as he knows.
As to the question what things are right, and what are
wrong, the teachings of Socrates do not furnish an explicit
answer. He refers us to the laws of the land in which we
may happen to live, for the establishment of specific ethi
71 
IISTORIC SKETCH.
cal rules; and while lihe does not expressly teach that the
foundation and groun)d of right is its'ttility, still he has
much to say of the utility of virtue.
DI)sciples of Socrates.-  1. THE CYNICS. -Virtue, according to the Cynics, consists in a life according to nature;
a complete independence of all arbitrary and conventional
laws and usages; the absence of, and entire freedom from
all wants and all desires; complete superiority to all these
things.  To such an extent did they carry this doctrine,
as to render both themselves and their philosophy objf.cts
of general aversion and contempt.
2. THE CYRENAICS. - With the Cyrenaics, on the contrary, pleasure is the chief good, and virtue is to be coinmnended and pursued, as cond(ucing to this result- the
means to this end. Socrates had given prominence in his
teachings to the happiness which virtue affords. Aristippus, looking solely at this, makes happiness the chief end
of man, and recommends moderation, self-control, self-Lculture, as the most direct means to the attainment of this
end.
-Doctrine of Plato. -Plato holds fast the Socratic notion of virtue as science - a thing to be learned. In
respect to the highest good, he takes a middle ground,
between the conflicting schools just mentioned - neither
admitting, with the Cyrenaics, that pleasure is the chief
good of life, nor, with the Cynics, rejecting it entirely, as
unworthy of regard.
The idea of the good and the evil, according to Plato,
is not (ldei ved immediately from sense, as are our perceptions of external objects, but constitutes, along with kindredl ideacs, as of the beautiful, etc., a distinct and peculiar
I)rovxinee of knowle(lge, an apriori faculty of the mind.  As
back of the senses, and their perceptions, there lies a
power that can compare and contrast these perceptions
72 
NATURE AND GROUND OF RIGHT.
one with another, - a power of the soul superior to sense,
and independent of it, -so, in like manner, thle soul, by
its own inherent activity, conceives and distinguishes the
beautiful and the odious, the good and the evil. This faic
ilty is what, in the different schools of modern philosophy,
passes under the name of original, or intuitive conception,
original suggestion, the reason, etc.
In one point, the ethical philosophy of Plato seems to us
defective.  The conception of' chty - the right, as such, in
distinction fiom thle merely good - is nowhere distinctly
and prominently broughtt out, but lies quite in the background. This is a defect, however, which pertains equally
to the Socratic ethics.
Doctri)e of Aristotle.- The great mistake which, from
Socrates onward, has prevailed respecting the nature of
virtue, that it is one and the same with knowledge, is, in
the philosophy of Aristotle, for the first time, distinctly set
right. Virtue is with him not so much an intellectual element and process, as a moral one; it is not a knowing, but
a doing. The doing, according to Socrates and Plato, is
consequent upon the knowing; if a man knows the good he
will do it. With Aristotle, on the contrary, the knowing is
consequent upon the doing; the more a man does, and
seeks to do the right, the better he will know the right.
To make virtue a merely intellectual affair, overlooks,
according to Aristotle, an essential element of our nature,
-i. e., the moral element, the natural instinct of the soul,
which demands and strives for the good, and which approves and is satisfied with that only which is right in
human conduct and endeavor.  Virtue is not so much, then,
a thing to be learned, as a thing to be done or practised,
in the following out this natural craving and instinct of
the soul. It is by the practice of virtue that we become
virtuous.  Virtue is the habit of doing right.  Nature lays
79
7
73 
HISTORIC SKETCH.
the foundation in so constituting the mind that it craves
and approves the good; reason and intelligence build on
this foundation; habit confirms and binds together the
whole. Our good and evil dispositions are originally in
our own power; but when once formed, by habit, to virtue
or to vice, they are no longer under control.
The highest good, the chief end and motive of human
endeavor, Aristotle concedes to be happiness in some form.
But, then, what is happiness?  Not the gratification of the
senses, stlirely; for, in this resrpe,(t, llill is ill no way slil)erior to the brute. The true li:l,l)illess foir maniii is the higliest
activity of his intelligent nitte, thle iunrestr.lined enei'(y
of well-being and of well-doiiig, which satisfies  -ill the
conditions of his mental and moral nature.  It is the
perfect activity of a perfect life.
In practical matters, virtue lies in pursuing the right
mean between opposite extremes. Thus justice is the
moral mean between doing wrong and suffering Wrong.
This mean varies with circumstances and individuals.
-Doctrine of the Stoics.- The Stoics make much account
of law and order in the universe. Everything must conform to the order of nature. The highest law of human
action, the highest end of life, is to shape our conduct
according to the universal law of nature, and live in harmony therewith. Live according to thy rational nature, is
the practical maxim, or rule of life, of the Stoics.
But pleasure is not a good - has no moral worth - is to
be disregarded and despised. It is no end of nature, but
something accidental.  It is not an activity, but a passive
state of the soul, a limitation of that activity which alone
the true blessedness. External good of every kind is
morally indifferent; virtue alone is real good.  Actions, of
course, are to be regarded as good or evil, not according
as they result in advantage or disadvantage to the doei;
74 
NATURE AND GROUND OF RIGHT.
not according to their tendencies and consequences, but in
themselves. A certain course of conduct is to be approved
and pursued' not because it conduces to health and happiness, but for its own sake.  Health, wealth, happiness, are
indifferent and worthless- to be preferred, perhaps, to
sickness, poverty, and the like, but not to be considered as
good in themselves.
The good man is he who governs himself according to
reason; the bad man is he in whom reason is not awakened,
but instinct has the mastery. And, inasmuch as every man
is under the dominion of one or the other, the good man is
wholly good, and the bad man wholly bad. Nor are there
any degrees of virtue,- all good acts are equally good, and
all bad acts equally bad.
The system of the Stoics was, it must be confessed,
rigorous and severe. As compared with the ethical philosophy of Aristotle, it strikes one as ideal, and impracticable.
.)octrine of the Epicureans.- Quite the reverse of this
was the ethical system of the Epicurean school. In common with most of the preceding schools, they make the
highest good consist in happiness; but then, the chief element of happiness is pleasure, -so that this may be regarded as the highest good. By pleasure, however, they
do not mean merely the gratification of the present moment, but that which will ensure the happiness of the
whole life.  Even pain, if it will lead to a greater pleasure,
is to be welcomed. The pleasures of the soul, accordin,gly,
are of greater account than those of the body merely, since
the former are lasting, and the latter momentary. And,
what is more, pleasure is inseparable from a virtuous life.
There can be no true and lasting happiness without virtue. As thus defined, the system of the Epicureans is
equally removed from that of the Cyrenaics on the one
75 
HISTORIC SKETCH.
hand, who regard pleasure as the chief good, but mean
thereby chiefly the pleasures of sense, and from that of the
Cynics and the Stoics on the other, who regard all pleasure
as a thing to be despised.
.Ethical Philosophy of the 2oderns.- Thus falr our
attention has been directed to the ethical doctrines of the
ancients. Turning now to more recent times, we shall find
the same great questions arising for discussion, which we
have found agitating and dividing the ancient schools, -
e. g., the nature of virtue, and the ground of right -
whether right and wrong are independent principles, or
whether they are to be estimated according to the results,
the advantages and disadvantages to which they lead. In
tracing these doctrines, I can refer only to the views of the
more prominent authors and schools of philosophy.
Early English MVoralists. - Since the prevalence of
Christianity, and the purer views of morality which it
could not fail to introduce, the idea of right as an independent principle of action -the idea of duty, in distinction
from the merely good-has been brought more prominently
to view in the systems of morality. The same is true, also,..
of the principle of conscience.  The nature and authority
of conscience have been mnuch in dispute; but by general agreement it has been regarded as the foundation of
moral science.   A great part, in fact, of the ethics of the
seventeenth century consists of the discussion of cases of
conscience. The Reformation, doubtless, led the way to
this, by teaching that the conscience  cannot be safely
entrusted to the keeping of the church and the clergy, or
subject to any human authority; but that every man is
individually responsible for his own belief, and his own
actions.  As early ns the twelfth century, indeed, we find
Abelard teaching that the fundamental rule of duty is the
divine will, as revealed in conscience and in Scripture.
76 
NATUIRE AND GROUND OF RIGIIT.
The early English moralists take essentially the same
ground.  Jeremy Taylor, in his liule of' Co)scieitce, makes
the authority of conscience the basis of his system of
morals, and quotes with approbation the saying of St. Bernard: " Conscience is the brightness of the eternal light,
the spotless mirror of the divine majesty, and the image of
the goodness of God." The doctrine of Taylor is, that as
God is present, governing the world by his providence, so
he is present in our hearts by his laws, governing us by
conscience, which is his substitute, or representative. This
gives to conscience not merely a place as the foundation
of morals, but clothes it, in a sense, with a divine commission and authority. This view of conscience as, conjointly with Scripture, the ground and acknowledged basis
of morality, seems to have been very generally entertained by the leading minds of the seventeenth century in
England.
Theory of robbes. - This view was not without antagonism. A powerful opponent arose, at once subtle and
bold, in the person of Thomas Hobbes, the philosopher of
Malmesbury, who held that Law, or the State, is the origin
of all rights and duties. In the state of nature, every man
is at war with every man, and in such a state there are no
rights or duties, - " The notions of Right and Wrong,
Justice and Injustice, have there no place." From this
state of nature man emerges into society, and the civil
body, or the State, is, as a matter of self-defence, coInstructed. This it is which gives law, - and thus arises
duty and the nature of right.  The doctrine "thlat every
private man is judge of good and evil actions," he pronounces a poisonous and seditious doctrine, dangerous to
the State; "whereas it is manifest that the measure of good
and evil actions is the Givil Law." To him who lives in
civil society "the Law is the public Conscience by which
7*
77
Ir 
HISTORIC SKETCH.
he hath already undertaken to be guided." This anni hilates at a blow iman's moral nature, and resolves imorality
and duty into the power  of the civil arm.  Alight makes
right.
These principles were received with very little favor,
and called forth many replies.  As Whewell very justly
remarks, however, these tenets, so startling and offensive,
were very far fi'om being new. "The whole of this controversy had agitated the schools of philosophy many ages
earlier." It was in substance the same question which
comes up for discussion so fi'equently in the dialogues of
Plato and of Cicero, whether right and wrong are independent qualities of actions, or whether they are merely
terms to denote the advantages or disadvantages  that
result from certain courses of behavior. This question, discussed, as we have seen, by Cynic and Cyrenaic, by Stoic
and Epicurean, runs through the whole history of morals.
Ctcuworth.   One of the principal opponents of this
scheme of Hlobbes \vas Ralph Cudworth, who, in his Treatise concernzing Eternal and 1imuttable  [orality, takes
the ground that our perception of right and wrong is
an ultimate fact in our nature, that these ideas are simple
and incapable of analysis, and that the mind is able to
form them antecedently to positive institutions. He shows
that the doctrines of Hobbes were but the revived dogmas
anId sophistries of earlier schools - essentially the very
(logmas against which Plato argued in condemning the
doctrine of Protagoras, that all our knowledge is derived
fiom sense.  With Plato, he maintains that some of our
ideas proceed not from sensible objects, but from tho mind's
own activity; among these the idea of right and wrong;
and that these ideas, thoughl existing only in the mind, are
not creations of the mind, but realities eternal and immutable.
78 
NATURE ANDt) GROUND OF RGIGIT.
Doctrine of Locke. -  The doctrines of Locke  have
been the occasion of much dispute. It is by no means
easy to assign to this distinguished man his true position
in philosophy and morals. It seems clear, however, that
whatever may have been his own personal views and feel
ilgs, the tendency of his philosophy was quite in the
opposite direction to the system of Cudworth and the independent moralists. Deriving all our simple ideas from
sensation and reflection, or the observation of things without, and of our own mental operations, he seems to leave
no place, according to this account of the matter, for the
ideas of right and wrong.  These, consequently, are not
simple and original ideas, but derived - the result of education.
Accordingly, moral good and evil are not, in this philosophy, independent principles. "Good or evil are nothing
but pleasure or pain, or that which occasions or procures
pleasure or pain to us. Moral good and evil, thus, is only
the conformity or disagreement of our voluntary actions
to some law whereby good or evil is drawn on us by the
will and power of the law-maker; which good and evil,
pleasure or pain, attending our observance or breach of
the law, by the decree of the law-maker, is that we call
reward and punishment."- (Book II., ch. 28, ~ 5.) This
manifestly places Locke in the lower school of moralists,
in distinction from the higher ground of Plato and Cudworth. The morality of his system is that of consequences
rather than of eternal and immutable distinctions. The
tendency of his philosophy, it may be remarked, was much
further and stronger in this direction than he himself was
probably aware. Like most great minds, he seems to have
held views inconsistent with his own system. His philosophy led to results which he would by no means have
adopted.
79 
HISTORIC SKETCH.
(,Ictrke and Price.- In opposition to the views otf
Locke, and in accordance with the system of Cudw(ortli,
Dir. Samuel Clarke maintins the eternal nature aid indce)endent character of moral distinctions.   These eternal
differences and relations of thlings determine the essential
fitness and reasonableness of certain courses of conduct,
and the unfitness and unreasonableness of the opposite
courses. With reference to this fitness, the will of God
always chooses; and creatures ought also to choose with
reference to the same. Duty, obligation result firom this
source, independent even of the divine will, and of all
prospect of reward or gain.
-Dr. Price, also, in opposition to Locke, ascribes the originl of our ideas of right and wrong to the understa-t(ing,
or the reason, which terms are used to denote the general
faculty of intelligence, and which is affirmed to be "itself
a source of new ideas."  We reach these ideas by means
of an intuitive perception, or intuitive judgment.   They
express qualities of actions, and not mere impressions and
sensations, pleasurable or painful, of our own minds; realities, eternal and immutable.
Shagtesbury, tfftcheson, tIIme.- With the writers now
named, there comes into use a new mode of expressing
and accounting for our moral ideas and perceptions.   It
was now asserted that there is a peculiar faculty of the
mind whose office it is to perceive these distinctions, and
to this ficulty the name of thae moral sense was given.
Slaftesbttry, himself an advocate of the independent and
original nature of moral distinctions, introduced this use
of terms. He speaks of the sense of right and of wrong, and
calls it the moral sense.  He likens it to the natural sense
of the sublime and the beautiful.  Hutcheson gives greater
prominence to this view, and makes it the basis of his system. We have a natural sense or instinct for the right, as
80 
NATURE AND GROUND OF RIGIll1'.
we have for the beauty of color or sound -as we have in stincts and affections for other specific objects.  Iftmne,
adopting this view, and carrying it to its extreme results,
makes virtue and vice, as well as beauty and deformity,
matters of mere taste or sentiment.  Right and wrong do
not denote any independent quality in the object thus designated, but only an effect or sensation produced in our
own minds; just as sweet and bitter, the pleasant and the
painful, are merely our own sensations, and not properly
qualities of objects.  Referring to the doctrine - supposed
to be fullly proved in modern times -" that tastes and colors, and all other sensible qualities, lie not in the bodies,
but merely in the senses," he adds: "The case is the same
with beauty and deformity, virtue and vice." - (Essays,
Part I. Essay XVIII.) Thus we are brought back again,
in the revolving cycle of opinion, to the old doctrine of
Protagoras, that nothing is true or false, any more than
sweet or souri, in itself, but only with reference to the perceiving mind.  Whatever anything seems to be, to any
mind, that, and that only, it is.
Butler. —The writings of Butler have justly placed him
in the front rank of English moralists.  He asserts, more
clearly, perhaps, than any preceding writer had done, the
existence of a moral faculty, while he nowhere closely
or sharply analyzes the precise nature of this faculty.
His principles are those of the independent school of moralists, that right and wrong are something in themselves,
and not merely in their consequences.  Still, these prinnciples are nowhere very distinctly announced or systematically defended.  lie seems purposely to have  avoided
technical or philosophical terms, and to have expressed
himself in contlnon and popular language, in treating of
this class of subjects, -a language not always sufficiently
definite for philosophical purposes, He is classed among
81 
HISTORIC SKETCH.
the unsystematic moralists by Whewell. Notwithstanding
some vagueness of expression, however, Butler clearly
maintains the independent nature of moral distinctions.
There is a difference, he holds, among our faculties, not of
degree, merely, but of kind,- some are superior to others,
of higher authority; and the faculty to which belongs an
authority and supremacy over all the rest is conscience.
Warburton.- Dissatisfied with the doctrines of Cudworth, Clarke, Price, and Butler, on the one hand, as placing the ground of morals in the eternal fitness of things,
and also with the moral sense of Shaftesbury, Hutcheson,
and their disciples, as reducing morality to a mere sentiment or taste, a class of moralists arose who maintained
that the will of God is the basis of morality and source
of obligation. We need look no further than this. To
know that the divine will requires a given thing, is of itself
sufficient to put us under obl)lig:ition to do that thing.
There is no morality without law, no other b'sis of obligation than the divine command.  Suchll was the view of
Warburton. He lays it down as an axiom that "Obligation
necessarily implies an obliger." The action is thus regarded
not as right or wrong in itself, and obligatory because right,
but only as comma tced.  This view became, for a time,
the prevalent mode of thought, and gave character to the
moral teachling, especially of the university of Cambridge.
It is the view maintained essentially by Law, Professor of
Moral Philosophy in the university, and still more fully
by Waterland, laster of Magdalen College.
Paley and his followers.- This view received still filir
ther development and modification at the hands of a writer more vigorous and popular in his style, and far more
widely known, than either of those just mentioned.  I
refer to the celebrated Dr. Paley.  To resolve all obligation into the mere command of God, might seem somewhat
82 
NATURE AND GROUND OF RIGHIT.
arbitrary. Is there not a reason why God commands what
he does? Seeks he not always the happiness of his creatures?  Is not this, then, the real and ultimate criterion of
duty?  Paley was not the first to combine these two principles. MIr. Gay, Fellow of Sidney College, Cambridge,
author of the dissertation on the Nature of Virtue prefixed
to King's Origin of Evil, had already advanced this view.
"Thus the will of God is the criterion of virtue, and the
happiness of mankind the criterion of the will of God;
and therefore the happiness of mankind may be said to be
the criterion of virtue but once removed." Gay, accordingly, defines virtue to be "conformity to a rule of life,
directing the actions of all rational creatures with respect
to each other's happiness; to which conformity every one,
in all cases, is obliged." The same doctrine is also advanced
by Tucker, author of the "Light of Nature Pursued," a
work frequently referred to by Paley.  This author regards
the highest good "to be none other than pleasure, or satisfaction;" and speaks of it as absurd to talk of things as
being right i) themselves, without regard to consequences,
inasmuch as "things are rendered right by their tendency
to some end." We are now fairly and fully again upon
the morality of consequences, of utility, and expediency, -
no new doctrine, as we have seen, in the history of morals.
It is evident, likewise, that Paley is by no means original
in advancing this system at the time when he wrote.  The
writings of Law, and especially of Gay, and Tucker, and
Rutherforth, had fuilly prepared the way for it.
Paley defines virtue to be "the doing good to mankind,
in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness." It has been firequently and very justly
objected to this scheme, that it recognizes only one class
of duties- those to mankind; and also that it seems to
mnake it essential to a virtuous act that it should be done
83 
HISTORIC SKETCH.
for the sake of future reward. In carrying out this philos.
ophy, Paley loses sight of the idea of right, and of duty as
based on the right, and resolves all obligation into mere
command,  without reference to the question  wxhat we
ought to do. In this he follows Warburton and the Cambridge moralists; but goes further than they had done,
inasmuch as he makes moral obligation the result, not from
the will of God alone, but from any command or will of another which we cannot well resist. The sum and substance
of duty is to act with regard to the highest expediency.
Priestley and Bentham. -The philosophy thus introduced anew to public notice, became immensely popular.
It was at once adopted in the university of Cambridge,
where, as we have seen, the same doctrine had for sometime previously been taught. Among those who, about
this period, take substantially the same ground, must be
reckoned two distinguished writers on Political Science,
- Priestley and Bentham,- neither of whom, however, is
to be regarded as properly a follower of Paley. Indeed,
Priestley had, in his Essay on Government, published some
seventeen years before the appearance of Paley's works,
distinctly announced " the greatest happiness of t/e greatest number" as the true and only proper object of government. Bentham founds his system of political morality
expressly on this principle -utility; by which he means,
as above, the greatest happiness of the greatest number.
There is no essential difference between this doctrine and
that of Paley.
Stewart. -In opposition to these views, Dugald Stewart, in his Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers,
takes decidedly the ground of the earlier English moralists,
and holds moral distinctions to be eternal and immutable.
The words right and wrong express qualities of actions,
and not consequences merely. When we say, of an act of
84 
NATURE AND GROUND OF RIGHT.
justice, that it is right, we do not mean, with Shaftesbury
and Hutcheson and Hume, simply that it excites pleasure
in the mind, as a particular color pleases the eye; nor, with
Hobbes, that society and the strong arm of the state require it; nor, with Warburton and the Cambridge men,
that the will of God makes it imperative, and that is the
end of the matter; nor yet, with the school of Paley and
Bentham, that it is expedient, useful, for the highest happiiess of all; but, on the contrary, to say that such a
thing is right, is to assert that respecting it which is
quite independent of our constitution; as much so " as the
equality of the three angles of a triangle and two right
anigles."- "For my own part," he says, "I can as easily
conceive a rational being so formed  as to believe  the
three angles of a triangle to be equal to ole right angle,
as to believe that, if he had it in his power, it would be
right to sacrifice the happiness of other men to the gratification of his own animal appetites."
Hall.- There were not wanting among the theological
and popular writers of England, many to raise their voice
against the dangerous tenets of the school of Paley.
Robert Hall, among the more modern writers, thus indignantly rebukes this false philosophy: "How is it, that on
a subject on which men have thought deeply, from the
moment they began to think, and where, consequently,
whatever is entirely and fundamentally new must be fun damentally false -how is it, that in contempt of the experience of past ages, and of all precedents, human  and
divine, we have ventured into a perilous path, which no
eye has explored, no foot has trod; and have undertaken,
after the lapse of six thousand years, to manufacture a
morality of our own - to decide by a cold calculation of
interest, by a ledger-book of profit and loss, the preferenco
8
85 
HISTORIC SKETCH.
of truth to falsehood, of piety to blasphemy, and of hu.
manity and justice to treachery and blood?"
Americat Moralists.- In the preceding sketch, I have
confined myself thus far to the opinions of English writers.
Of the French and German philosophers, in so far as they
have discussed the particular topics now before us, the
limits of the present chapter do not allow me to speak.
In our own country, the two great systems- that of independent morality, and the morality of consequences - have
each had their adherents.   Edwards, the distinguished
theologian, in his dissertation on the Nature of Virtue,
regards virtue as "the beauty of those qualities and acts
of the mind that are of a moral nature," and defines it as
consisting essentially in "benevolence to -Being in general,"
and more particularly in love to God, as the greatest and
best of beings. This benevolence he regards as a higher
principle than that moral sense, or conscience, that is natural to mankind.
D)-. Waylan(l. - Dr. Wayland regards the ultimate rule,
the basis of morals, as consisting in, and arising out of, the
essential relations of things; as, e. g., the relation of parent
and child, of state and citizen, of creator and creature.
These relations once known, certain obligations and duties
also become manifest.
-Dr. Hickok.- According to this eminent moralist and
philosopher, the highest good, the ultimate rule and test
of action, the basis of moral obligation, is worthiness of
spiritual approbation, conformity to the spirit's own intrinsic excellency. This ultimate right is simple, immutable, and universal.
86 
DIVISION SECOND.
PRACTICAL ETHICS 
IL 
PRACTICAL ETHICS.
PRELIMINARY ANALYSIS AND CLASSIFICATION.
OUR attention has hitherto been directed to those principles which lie at the foundation of ethical scienceprinciples, a correct understanding of which is of the
highest importance, if not indeed indispensable to our
progress, as we enter upon the second of the two great
departments into which moral science was divided at the
outset.
Before proceeding to the consideration of the several
duties of which this part of our science is to treat, it seems
necessary to fix upon some convenient classification of
these duties; to this end, a general survey of the field we
are about to investigate, and some analysis of the several
branches of duty, become desirable.
General -)ivisioi. - As we cast our eye over the various lines of conduct which constitute the practical duties
of life, a general division strikes us at once. Some of
these duties seem to have more direct reference to ourselves, others to our fellow-men, others still to our Maker.
These would seem to be the natural divisions into which
this department of the science falls.
And yet, such is the nature of duty, that a wrong done
8* 
PRELIM3INARY ANALYSIS.
to one's self, is also a wrong done to society and to God;
and so of all the other departments of duty. It is impossible to neglect or violate a duty to society, or to God,,
without injury to self,-so closely interlinked is the whole
circle of duties, and of interests, each with the other.
Only in a general sense, then, and merely for the sake of
convenience, can any such division be made as that now
proposed. In like manner, we may regard the bodily organism as composed of different members, or parts, - the
head-the trunk-the limbs,-while at the same time
the system of bones, of veins, of nerves, pervades the
whole; and to injure one of the members, or parts, is to
injure the whole system.
Further Analysis. -Adopting the general division already indicated, we have, I. The duties which relate more
directly to SELF. Of these the principal are, 1. The duty
of Self-support. 2. Of Self-defence. 3. Of Self-control.
4. Of Self-culture.
II. The duties which relate more directly to OUR FELLOW-MEN. Of these, some are general, relating to man as
such, or to society at large. Of this class are the duties
respecting Life, Liberty, Property, Reputation, Veracity.
Others, again, arise from the particular institutions of so.
ciety, and the relations that thus spring up between the
different portions of the community, as thus united. Of
this class are the duties arising from the Family Relation,
as those of Husband and Wife, Parent and Child; and
also the duties pertaining to the State, as those of the Citizen or Subject, of the Government, and of States among
themselves.
III. The duties which more directly relate to THE SuPREMmE BEING.  Of these, the principal are the duty of
Reverence, of Love, of Obedience, of Worship.
90 
PRELIMINARY ANALYSIS.
Summary of Classes. - Omitting now the more general
divisions, the following principal classes or departments ot
duty present themselves for investigation, in their order:
I. DUTIES TO SELF.
II. DUTIES TO SOCIETY.
III. DUTIES TO THE FAMILY.
IV. DUTIES TO THE STATE.
V. DUTIES TO GOD.
These will constitute the several parts of the second
division of our science, i. e., of Practical Ethics.
91 
PART I.
DUTIES TO SELF.
IT is necessary, as we proceed, to bear in mind the
renlarks already made, that no duty is to be regarded
as exclusively a duty to ourselves, nor yet to society, nor
to the state. The duties which we owe to ourselves are
also, in a sense, duties which we owe to the fimily, to
society, to the state, and to our Maker. These all receive
injury by any neglect or injury of ourselves; and these
all have an interest, accordingly, in the faithful observance
of the duties due to self At the same time, there are
certain duties which relate more specifically and directly
to ourselves. Of these the chief are, Self-support, Selfdefence, Self-control, and Self-cutlture.  These will be considered in successive chapters.
CHAPTER I.
SELF-SUPPORT.
General Statement. -There are certain things which
every one must do for himself, which others either cannot,
or, under ordinary circumstances, will not do for him.
Among these is the duty of providing for his own physical
wants the duty of self-support. Every one owes it to
I 
SELF-SUPPORT.
himself to make such provision for his own wants as not to
be dependent on the charity of others.
Nature intends this, and makes provision for it by conferring upon  us those powers  andl faculties which are
requisite to the various pursuits of industry, and by attaching to honest labor the reward of success, to idleness the
penalty of inevitable suffering and want.  These are the
laws and conditions of our being, established by the
Creator, fixed and immutable. He that will not work,
neither shall he eat, is the universal law of the race. Labor
is requisite in order to the production of the fruits of the
earth.  The food that sustains us, the fabrics that clothe
us, the dwellings that shelter us from the inclemency of
the seasons,- whatever contributes to the comfort and supplies the varied and innumerable wants of man,- is the
product of labor. Now, this labor, that is universally
requisite to supply the wants and gratify the desires of
men, is something which every one is bound to perform for
himself. No one has a right to require another to labor
for him unrequited. I may exchange labor for labor, -I
may give money, which is simply the representative of
labor already performed, for the labor of others which I
wish to procure. Lacking this, I must earn my bread by
nmy own toil. I have no right to compel another to labor
for me without reward. Nor has another any right to
require this of me.
Excel>tions to tle Rule. - The only exceptions, I suppose, to this law of self-support, are those cases in which
there is a real inability to labor. When, in consequence of
sickness, casualty, or constitutional deformity, there is
lacking, either wholly or in part, the power to provide for
one's own subsistence, to that extent is the person thus
incapacitated ficed fiom the duty of self-support, on the
obvious principle that it is unjust to require of any man
93 
SELF-SUPPORT.
what he cannot possibly performt. Hence the duty of
others who are able to labor, or who possess ill abundance
the means of life, to provide for the necessary wants of the
sick and suffering; but not to support in idleness those
who are able to labor.
Conditions essential to Self-support.- In order to make
suitable provision for one's personal wants, certain conditions are absolutely essential. Industry is necessary -
the diligent, faithful pursuit of some honest calling; but
not industry alone. To acquire is merely one part of the
business. If we expend our acquisitions as fast as we make
them, there is no provision for the future. Frugality is
necessary, as well as industry. No man has a moral right
to expend all that he earns, if by so doing he leaves himself, or those dependent on him, without adequate provision
for future support. Industry and frugality become virtues
when directed to this end; and the want of them becomes
a sin against God and man.  It is the duty of every man,
not absolutely incapable of the thing, to take care that
neither himself nor those dependent on him shall become
a tax upon the industry and toil of others. Hence the
duty both of industry and frugality on his part. It was a
wise remark of an ancient Greek philosopher, that wealth
consists not so much in great possessions as in small
wants.  It is not the man that acquires the least who is
the poorest, nor is he the richest and most prosperous who
gains the most.
94 
SELF-DEFENCE.
CHAPTER II.
SELF-DEFENCE.
Reasonable. - The same rule that makes it a duty to
provide for the further subsistence of the body, in order to
the preservation of life, justifies and requires its defence
firom lawless aggression and violence, for the same end.
If it is duty to preserve life by supplying the bodily wants,
it is a duty to preserve it by guarding against needless
injury and destruction. If it is incumbent on us to take
precautions against disease and accident, it is equally our
duty to ward off the attacks of sudden violence, whether
of man or beast; and if, in order to this, a resort to extreme measures becomes necessary, then we are justified
in resorting to such measures.
The reasonableness of this view will appear, if we reflect
that every man is by the constitution of nature, in an important sense, his own guardian. He is to look after his
own interests, and attend to his own wants.  No one else
can do this for him. His own life and safety are of vastly
more consequence to him  than they are to any one else.
If he is too negligent, or indolent, or cowardly, to protect
his own life and person against lawless aggression, he is
false to himself.
Hence, it is the instinct of nature, as well as the dictate
of reason, to defend ourselves when in danger.   It has
been called, not improperly, Nature's first law. It is a constitutional impulse, and he who implanted it in the human
mind had a design to be accomplished by it.  In yielding
to this impulse, within due bounds, we are simply carrying
out this design.
95 
SELF —DEFENCE.
Dtue not to Otrselves alonie.-Nor is this a matter merely
allowable —a thing to be justified, merely.  It rises to the
rank of a duty, and that not to ourselves only. It is not a
matter in which we only are concerned.  Others have an
interest in it. Our lives are of value to many beside our selves. If we fall under the blows of the assassin, we
leave others, unprotected and helpless, it may be, depend ent on the charities of the world, to struggle with  mis fortune and want. This calamity we have no right to
entail upon them.
We owe it, also, to many who are not directly depend ent on us. Were it understood that, whether from Jack
of right or lack of courage, men would not defend themselves when attacked, acts of violence would be much
more numerous than they are. Every instance of resolute
self-defence acts as a preventive of similar crime. The
safety of the entire community is in a measure entrusted,
in such cases, to our keeping.
Objection.- But do not the Scriptures forbid self-defence?  Did not Christ command us, when smitten on one
cheek, to turn the other also? I reply, it was not the intention of our Saviour, in those words, to forbid self-defence
in cases of real danger, but only the exercise of a revengeful and quarrelsome spirit. Better even to suffer a repetition of the wrong and abuse, than on slight and needless
grounds to engage in controversy.   That Christ did not
mean to forbid self-defence in cases of serious danger, is
evident from his permitting his disciples to armn themselves, on at least one occasion.  " He that hath no sword,
let him sell his garment and buy one." - "And they said,
Lord, behold here are two swords." - "And he said unto
them, it is enollgl]."  One of these swords was actually
used in defence of his Master, by one of the disciples, but
a short time after these words were spoken. Now, al
96 
though the purpose of Christ required that he should be
given up at this time to his enemies, and therefore defence
w.as not necessary, and so not allowed, still, our Saviour
would not have spoken in this manner, much less have
permitted his disciples actually to arm themselves, and
even to draw and use the sword in the instance referred
to, had he regarded all self-defence in such cases as sinfuil,
and therefore to be condemned.
Fturther Objectio)ns.   But it may be said, why not leave
the defence of person and property to the law, which is
the properly constituted gua'dian of the  rights of the
community?  I reply, in all cases where a resort to the
law is possible, this should be done. We are entitled, as
citizens, to the protection of the civil arm; and where the
case admits of appeal to that protection, it is undoubtedly
the proper mode of defence. But in many cases, such an
appeal is out of the question. When attacked by the
midnight robber and assassin, the protection of my life or
property is, by the very circumstances of the case, committed to my own hands. I must resolutely and instantly
defend, or tamely surrender them. Now, when it comes
to this, as it often does, which of the two shall die,- the
assailer or the assailed, - no reason can be shown why I
should prefer the life of the aggressor to my own. He deserves to die. The very act of violence which he is perpetrating forfeits his claim to life. I have the right to
live, and to defend myself that I may live.
Limitations of the R?ule.- Within what limits, it may
be asked, and on what occasions, is the resort to extreme
measures justifiable in self-defence? The case already
supposed sLuggests, I think, the true limit.  I am author
ized to take the matter of protecting my person and property into my own hands only when there is no other appartcut and probable mode of defence; and I am at liberty to
9
SELF-DEFENCE.
97 
SELF-DEFENCE.
resort to extreme measures in the case only when milder
measures will not answer the purpose.  If a simple w'.iiining, or the mnere presentation of a weapon, is sufficient to
deter the aggressor from his purpose, I ami not justified in
doing more, since self-defence in that case does not require
it. But if I can preserve my own life only by taking his,
or if I have reason to believe that this is the only alternative, the measure is justifiable.
It is to be observed, moreover, that it is only fiom lawless vio,ence that life is to be preserved at tlhe expense of
life.  Suppl-)ose, when attacke(l, I act upon the principle of
self-defence.  The assailant becomes lhimself assaile(l, and
it may be that his life, in turn, is in d.nge,Ie.  Is it for him
now to proceed upon the principle above stated, and preserve his own life by taking mine? Would he be justified
in so doing? Manifestly not. The violence from which I
defend myself is lawuless; that fiom which he defends himself is lawftl.  He had no right to put my life in danger;
I have the right, in self-defence, to endanger his.
On the same principle, the prisoner under sentence of
law, or under arrest, is not at liberty to set himself free by
an attack upon his keeper.  The right of self-defence does
not belong to him under those circumstances.
-Further Limitationt. —It niay admit of serious question,
whether, for the defence of property aloe, where life is
not also at stake, it is right to take human life. A robber
assails me on the highway.  Ile demands my property
merely, and promises that my life,and person shall be un
harmed, in case I surrender my purse. Hle has no right to
make that demand, much less a right to threaten my life,
in case of refusal.  I can protect my property only by taking the life of the aggressor. Have I a right to do so?
In the eye of the law, I should be guilty of no crime, in
the case now supposed, were I to do this. But have I a
98 
SELF-DEFENCE.
moral right? Where my life is in peril, and can be pre served only by the death of my assailant, I am at liberty
to defend myself to the last extremity, since my life is, (t
least, of equal value with his.  But is it certain that my
property is of equal value with the life of the assailant?
This is not so clear.  There may be cases in which tile
protection of property may be justifiable, even at the expense of life. But, where any doubt remains, it were certainly better to part with any amount of property, rather
than to incur the guilt of unlawfully shedding human
blood.
-Defence of the Rights of  Others.- I would by no
means be understood as limiting the right of defence to
those cases in which our own life, person, or property is in
danger. The same principle extends to the rights of others. The lives, the safety, the property of others, may be
committed to our care, and dependent on us; in that case,
the same reasons that render the defence of our own lives
or property justifiable, require us to defend tlcirs.  Every
man owes it both to himself and to his family, to defend
from danger those who look to him as their natural guardian and protector.
A  Questionable  Case.- It may sometimes happen, in
other cases besides those of lawless aggression, that our
own lives, or property, can be protected only at the expense of the life and property of another.  My neighbor's
house and my own are both in danger of destruction, by
fire, at one and the same moment.  There are means of
preserving one of them, but not both.  Which shall it be?
Does duty to mnyself require me to protect my own property at the expense of his?  A  plank, floating on the
water, comes within my reach as I am struggling for life.
It is sufficient to bear up one alone.  At my side is another
person, also struggling for life.  Does the law of self-pre- *i
~ * ~   
99 
SELF-CONTROL.
tection apply in such a case? It is difficult to lay down
any rule that shall apply to all such cases. They must be
determined  according to circumstances.   As  a general'
principle, it is better to suffer harm ourselves, than to protect ourselves at the risk of injustice to others; better
always to suffer wrong, than to do wrong; and where
there is danger of wronging another, in the act of protecting self, it would be the impulse of a true and generous
heart to forego the claims of self-protection. There can
be no doubt on which side we shall be most liable, ini such
cases, to err. The dangelr is, that selfishness will prevail
over a due consideration of the rights of others, and that
the instinct of self-preservation will prove stronger than
all our scruples.
CIHAPTER III.
SELF-CONTROL.
PROMINENT among the duties which we owe to our    selves, is that of self-control. This relates to the govern    ment of the temper, and of all those appetites, propensi    ties, and passions, which, while having their foundation in
the constitution of our nature, require to be kept under
restraint, subject to the dictates of reason and discretion.
As relates to the Temper. - Every man owes it to him    self to maintain perfect control over his own temper. I
refer more particularly to those feelings of indignation and
resentment wMhich naturally arise in view of injury received,
and which is properly called anger. These feelings require
to be held in check with a firm and steady hand.  Unre    strained, they trample on all that is sacred, and subject
'rdason, judgment,  principle, the man  himself, to  their
:-1-.
100 
SELF-CONTROL.
petty tyranny.   They destroy character and  influence,
and shorten life itself.
The man who has no control over himself ill this matter,l;
whose anger breaks forth, lawless and ungovernable, on
every provocation, -is wholly at the mercy of events.  He
is not his own master. He is like one afflicted with the
St. Vitus' dance, who has no control over his own movements, but must go when the fit takes him, wherever he
may be. Nay, worse; it is in the power of his enemies to
bring the fit of anger upon him, and make themselves
merry at his expense.
These feelings are capable of control. By due care and
self-discipline, they may be broulght into subjection to reason and the will.  But to do this, requires effort, resolution,
vigilance. It is the work of time. There is, however, no
nobler conquest for any man to make than the conquest
of himself; none, perhaps, more difficult; must I add, none
more seldom made. It is easier to subdue kingdoms, and
lead armies captive, than to subdue and lead captive one's
own rebellious passions. Hence it is, that "HIe that is slow
to anger, is better than the mnighty; and he that ruleth his
spirit, than he that taketh a city." For want of this control, many of the greatest men in the w-orld's history,
most distinguished for valor and brilliant achievement,
have been really among the weakest of men- objects of
compassion rather than of envy to every sensible mind.
The hero who wept that there were no more worlds to
conquer, seems never to have learned that within his own
bosom lay a restless and turbulent kingdom, over which,
with all his armies and all his power and valor, he had as
yet attained no dominion.
As relates to other Passionis aid -Propensities. - But
self-control relates not to the temper alone; it implies the
9*
101 
SELF-CONTROL.
due restraint of all our passions, appetites, and pl'opens.
ties.  It includes what we  mean  by temperance, in its
%wi(lest sense -  abstinence fi'om all those excesses  and
vices which inijure the health, impair the strength  and
activity of body and mind, weaken the character and influence, cut short the life.  To yield to the passions and
appetites of the animal nature, without restraint, involves
these consequences. They may be remote, and slow of
approach, but they are sure.  The eternal and immutable
laws of nature have established this connection, and decreed these results.  They are not to be avoided.  Ihence,
it is one of the plainest dictates of prudence, one of the
first and most imperative duties which we owe to ourselves, to keep these appetites and propensities of the animal nature under strict control. If to defend the person
from the violent assault of robber or assassin, be a duty,
much more to defend the mind and moral nature fi'oni
injury and ruin.  Sensuality ruins both body  and soul.
He who yields to this foe is lost.
It may be difficult, in many cases, to assign the precise
limit within which indulgence of the appetites is allowable, and beyond which it becomes a crime.  Such limits
there are; and it is for each one, by carefuil observation, to
determine for himself where they lie. One thing is certain, that lie who finds the demands of appetite increasing
upon him beyond his power of successful resistance, has
already passed that limit.
Objection.- It may be urged by some, that, inasmuch
as the passions and propensities of our nature are a part of
our original constitution, and, in a sense, the gift of the
Creator, it is therefore right to indulge the same, without
other limit than that which nature itself imposes; in other
words, without restraint.   This is the practical phlilosophy according to which too many, doubtless, are disposed
102 
SELF-CONTROL.
to govern their conduct.  It is a philosophy, however, as
false as it is shallow - at war not more with reason and
revelation than with the common sense of mankind.  The
fact that a given propensity or passion is founded in the
nature with which the Creator has endowed us, is surely
no warrant for the indulgence of that propensity or passionr beyond the limits which the Creator has himself assigned. He who indulges his passions without restraint,
transgresses these limits, and, in reality, does violence to
his own nature.  Self-control, firm and habitual, is not less
the dictate of reason than the command of God.
-ecessury to Self-reslpect, and the -Respect of Others.
The exercise of a due self-control, both in regard to the
temper and the various animal propensities of our nature,
is necessary to all true self-respect.  No man who is under
the dominion of his baser appetites and passions, can truly
respect himself.  He knows his own Weakness and degradation; knows and feels that he is a slave, that the sceptre
has departed firom him, that the crown of his integrity and
honor is in the dust. The effect of this is most disastrous
upon the character. He who has lost his self-respect, has
lost that which no gold can buy. His courage and his
moral strength are gone; nor can virtue long maintain its
ascendency in the absence of this principle.
Self-control is necessary also in order to the respect of
others. No man can for any length of time receive the
real homage and respect of others, who lacks the mastery
of himself. Station, power, wealth, may do something for
him; native talent and genius, still more; but not even
these can ultimately keel) back firom merited contempt the
helpless slave of his own miserable passions. Sa.d indeed
is the spectacle, of one born to high honors, and endowed
by nature with princely gifts, fi'om whose hand is stricken
the sceptre of dominion over his own spirit.
103 
SELF-CULTURE.
CHAPTER IV.
SELF-CULTURE.
Statement.- To abstain fiom those things which injure
us, to avoid those excesses and undue indulgences of the
natural appetites and propensities which work mischief and
ruin, is a duty, but not the whole duty which every intelligent rational being owes to himself. There are things to
be attained, as well as things to be avoided; positive, as
well as negative duties. Self-culture, not less than selfcontrol, becomes imperative. I have no right to neglect
my own highest welfare and advancement. My duty is
only in part performed when I refrain from that which
positively injures and degrades my mental or bodily
powers. It is my duty to develop and cultivate those
powers to the highest degree of which they are, under the
circumstances, susceptible,- to make  the most of the
faculties with which nature has endowed me. This is the
duty of every man- a duty which he owes first of all to
himself, but not to himself alone.  The family, the state,
society at large, the Creator - all have an interest in this
matter, and are concerned in its performance or neglect.
The highest wrong is done not to self alone, but to others,
by every instance of such neglect.
Exten)(s to )what.- The duty of self-culture includes in
its proper province the entire range of our natural faculties,
whether of body or mind. It includes physical culture not
less than mental. A healthy and well-developed physical
organism is one of tlhe very choicest goods of life; and, in
so far as it is a result to be attained by careful training and
104 
SELF-CULTURE.
culture, it is a duty imperative on every man to make that
attainment, and to put forth the effort necessary to it. A
sound mind in a sound body, is a maxim true in philosophy and true in mnorals. The history of the Greeks shows
what may be done in this branch of education. In modern times, and more especially among our own countrymen, this department of education has fallen into disrepute,
and been very generally overlooked. The theory with us
is to discipline and develop the mind, and let the physical
powers take care of themselves. Our institutions of learning, our whole educational system, look chiefly to this.  It
admits of serious question, whether in this we are not
committing a radical mistake. So intimate is the connection between the physical and the mental state, that the
highest condition and most favorable development of the
latter can hardly be secured without due attention to the
training and discipline of the former.
Irnclu,(es also   i,ental -Discipliie.- Self-culture extends
also to the improvement of the intellectual and moral
powers. No man is at liberty to neglect his own mental
discipline and culture. Not even are the claims of business paramount to this. No pressure of professional or
business engagements can justify the neglect of mental
discipline. No man in this busy world has a right so to
involve himself in the pursuits and cares of active life, that
it shall be out of his power to give both time and care to
the improvement of his own mind. Nature never intended
this.  HIe who miade the mind, and endowed it with its
wondrous faculties, had no such intention.
Nor is the culture of the mind to be made subordinate
to success in the various employments of life, and to be
pursued merely as a means to that end. A means to that
end it unquestionably is.  But that is not the whole or the
chief reason why it should receive attention.  The  im
105 
SELF-CULTURE.
provement of the mind is, in itself, a good of inestimable
worth, aside from all the gain that comes of it in the
more successful pursuits of life. A well-cultivated mind,
richly stored with the best acquisitions, is itself a treasure
with which no material wealth can compare. "For wisdom is better than rubies; and all the things that may be
desired are not to be compared to it."
Not limited to the Intellect.   Nor is the duty of which
I speak limited to the culture of the intellect alone.  MIemory, imagination, judgment, the reasoning powers, taste,
conscience- all are to be educated and strengthened; but
the seisibilities also claim regard, and likewise the wtill.
These great departments of the mind's activity are not to
be overlooked in the process of mental  training.  The
heart requires education and discipline, as well as the
lhead; the feelings, no less than the intellectual Ip)owers.
-le only is the symrnmetrical, fully develop)ed, well-educated
man, with whom all these faculties of his higher and spiritual nature h.Lve received due care an(l trining.  He who
fails of this, fails in one of the first duties which he owes
to himself.
Encouragemnents to tthis work. -Very great are the
inducements, very pressing the motives, to the faithful
performance of this duty. Other acquisitions are external,
and of precarious tenure; these, a part of the soul itself-so
much of real value added to the man. Other riches may
take wings; this is the true wealth that remains, vhile
the mind itself has any being, its inalienable inheritance.
Nor does success in this work depend wholly on early
advantages. In the absence of these, amid the pressing
cares of active life, much may be done by judicious method,
industry, and perseverance, to repair the deficiences of
early training. Many of the bri-ghtest names in literature
and science attest the truth of this.
106 
PAItT  II.
DUTIES TO SOCIETY.
CHAPTER I.
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIFE.
Value of Life. - Of the duties which we owe to our
fellow-men in general, one of the most iml)erative is the
regard which is due to human life.  Life is one of the
igreatest goods, one of the first and chief rights of nature.
In comparison with it all other natural goods and possessions are of little account; since, when life itself is at an
end, all those possessions and enjoyments which pertain to
and depend up)on it are also ended. "All that a man hath
will he give for his life."  Hence, to take human life, has
been regarded in all ages as a great crime.  It is to rob a
man of all his possessions and enjoyments at a stroke, to
cut himn off firom all his plans of business, or of pleasure -
fio'm  all the l)ursuits and all the friendships of life, and to
usher him, without warning or preparation, into the scenes
of a new and untried existence.
The injury thus done is irreparable.  Property taken by
fraud ol violence, may be restored; reputation unjustly
assailed, nlay be made good; health may  be regained;
)ut life itself destroyed, it is not inii the power of man tQ 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIFE.
make good the loss.  Hence a peculiar sacredness at
taches to human life. It is the gift of Deity. Man cannot
impart it; and what he cannot bestow, he has no right
to take away. Only he who gave it can authorize its
destruction.
Distinctions Recognizedl. - The laws of the state make
certain distinctions in the crime of taking human life; as
murder, manslaughter, etc. It is sufficient, in morals, to
draw the broad distinction between the premeditated and
intentional, and the merely accidental taking of life. The
former incurs the highest guilt; the latter may be innocent. It is not a violation of the moral code, provided it is
not the result of carelessness which might and should have
been avoided. If, by reckless driving through the streets
of a crowded city, life is sacrificed, the doer of the mischief is responsible for his carelessness, though not guilty
of murder. If, by the recklessness of an engineer, the
vessel, or the car, with its freight of life, is driven to destruction, the author of the calamity, though not justly
chargeable with intentional murder, is by no means free
from the guilt of taking human life. In such cases, the
laws of most nations arraign him for matislatighyter, making
the distinction between that and the premeditated and
intentional taking of life, which is denominated murder.
When the crime is not only premeditated, but secret
in its execution, the agent not exposing his own life by
giving the victim an opportunity of self-defence, there is
added to the guilt which otherwise and necessarily pertains
to the act, the meanness of cowardice. The murderer
under such circumstances becomes the assassin.
When an unlawful assault is committed, such as from
its nature must be more or less dangerous to life, should
such assault ultimately result in death, although such
result may not have been strictly intended by the assailant,
108 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIFE.
still, as the act was itself unlawful, a crime, and not an
accident, the author of the violence is not free from responsibility for the fatal consequences. He is guilty of manslaughter.
In general, with respect to injuries inflicted upon the
person, malicious intention is inferred from the act itself;
and whatever consequences result, are presumed in law
to have been intended, unless there are some mitigating
circumstances to excuse the act, and to show that it was
unintentional.
When-one person kills another in the heat of passion, in
a sudden quarrel, arising from provocation, and without
previous intention to take life, it is also, in English and
American law, termed manslaughter; but if the passions
have had time to cool, and the person provoked afterwards
kills the other, it is regarded as murder.
The term homnicice is usually, in law, applied to denote,
in general, the taking of human life, whether by design or
unintentionally, including murder and manslaughter, etc.
When the act is purely unintentional and accidental, it is
termed excusable homicide. The Jewish law, even in such
cases, gave no protection to the slayer, unless he took
refuge in certain cities specially designated as places of
refuige. The English law imposes a fine on the person
who has committed excusable homicide, - a fine which,
however, in practice, is remitted, - and also makes him
forfeit the instrument with which the offence was coinmitted. This is termed a deodand, and the law exacting
it is still in force.
Hoomicide Justifiable in what Cases.- There is a distinction in law between justiflable and excusable homicide.
The cases just referred to, where the slaying is simply
accidental, are instances of excusable homicide, though not
perhaps justifiable.   Homicide in an unpremeditated af
10
109 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIFE.
fray, though strictly in self-defence, is in English law also
regarded as excusable rather than justifiable.   This is
termed chance-medley. When death occurs as the result
of any game which is likely to end in blood,- as of boxing, sword-playing, etc., - or as the consequence of any
dangerous and unlawful act,-as shooting, or casting stoues
in a town,- the homicide is not in law justifiable: it may o0
may not be excusable. By the public laws of Athens and
Rome, he who killed another in the public games authorized by the state, was not held guilty of homicide; so by
the English law, death resulting from the exercise of any
sports and games authorized by the king, is regarded as
excusable homicide.
By the old Jewish and Roman laws, as well as by the
laws of England and of our own country, homicide is
justifiable when committed in self-defence fiom any unlawful and violent assault, or for the prevention of any
atrocious crime. If any one attempts robbery or murder,
and is killed in the attempt, the killing is justifiable. The
Jewish law justifies the slaying of the robber only in the
act of breaking open a house, and that only in the nigyht
tine: "If the sun be risen upon him, there shall be blood
shed for him." The Roman law was similar, with this
difference, that a thief detected by day might be slain,
should he defend himself with a weapon, provided the
slayer first make outcry for help.  Roman law allowed any
one to slay a person assaulting him with a weapon, whether
the assailant were a robber or not, provided the assailed
was in fear of his life, and could in no other way effectually protect himself. English law allows the same.
The laws of Solon make the same distinction as the
Jewish and Roman law between the slaying of the robber
by night and by day. The ground of this distinction is
evidently this: that in case of night attack, greater danger
110 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIFE.
to life may fairly be presumed on the part of the person
assailed, inasmuch as he cannot so fullly know the precise
extent of his danger, and cannot so readily obtain help.
He may therefore be justified to the extent of his supposed
danger. By day there are other means of redress.
-Execution of  uaw. - There are cases in which human
life becomes forfeited by crime, and the laws of the land
and the voice of universal justice demand the payment of
the forfeit. In such cases, not justice to the criminal alone,
but justice to the whole community, and the safety of the
whole, require the death of the criminal. The very sacredness of human life demands this protection from the hand
of violence, and makes it all imperative necessity that
*Whoso sheddeth mnan's blood, by man shall his blood be
shed." In no other way can the proper protection be
thrown about the innocent and defenceless, than by making the life of the murderer the penalty of his crime.
When an officer of justice, in pursuance of the sentence
of law, takes human life, under such circumstanees, he is
of course not guilty of a crime, but, on the contrary, is
discharging a high and solemn duty.
In other cases,- as where an officer, in the discharge of
his official duties, is violently resisted and assailed; as, for
example, by a prisoner seeking to make his escape, or
resisting the process of arrest and imprisonment, - a lecessity may exist for the resort to extreme measures; and,
in such a case, should the person thus resisting be killed
by the officer, in the attempt to discharge his duty, the act
must be pronounced justifiable.
Palliating Ciircymstauces. - The instances to which I
have referred( may be regarded as cases of justifiable homicide. They all fall under the law of self-protection, or the
protection of society.   There are many cases, however,
which do not properly fall under that rule, yet where the
ill 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIFE.
circumstances are such as, while they do not justify, at
least palliate, in some measure, the guilt of homicide.
Some offence, perhaps, has been committed, which the law
either takes no cognizance of, or which is beyond the
power of law adequately to redress. The provocation is
great, the injury deeply felt, the course of justice slow and
uncertain, and even at the best, the punishment of the
offender, provided, by some defect of evidence ol some
quibble of the law, he do not ultimately escape conv iction
altogether, is likely to be small in comparison with the
injury committed.   The temptation, in such a case, is
great for the injured man to take the law into his own
hands.
There may be cases in which circumstances shall seen*
to palliate, in a measure, the wrong of such a procedure;
but no circumstances, however they may excuse, can justify the taking of life by way of revenge, or redress for
wrong committed, whether the injury be to the person or
to the character and reputation of the injured party.
Whatever be the loss, whatever the dishonor, the person
injured has no right to be himself the judge or the executioner of justice.  He has no right to touch the life of his
enemy. The law alone has that right; and if not man, yet
God is just, and will avenge the injured and the innocent.
Were every man, when wronged, to take the law into his
own hands, and become his own avenger, the consequences
to society would be disastrous in the extreme.
The _iDel.-  There is a form of homicide, or attempted
homicide, which differs fiomn any other form of assault
with intent to kill, chiefly in the fact that it is made with
the knowledge and cooperation of the party assailed, the
attempt being mutual.  This may be done with more or
less of previous formality. When the challenge to such
an encounter is previously given and accepted, and the
0
tio
I 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIFE.
combat is conducted in accordance with certain rules
acknowledged in such cases, it is termed a duel, or an
affair of honor; when without such ceremony, it is simply
termed a hostile encounter, and differs little from chancemedley, a sudden affray, except that it is premeditated by
one or both the )parties, and not unfrequently anticipated
by the other.  In either case, it is an assault with the
avowed intent to kill, with more or less of premeditation
and mutual consent.
The history of the duel is not to be overlooked in estimating its character. It is, beyond doubt, a very ancient
customn. It seems to have originated in the earlier stages
of civilization, among rude and barbarous nations, of war
like habits.  It was virtually an appeal to the Supreme
Ruler of men and events, to decide the uncertain question
of right or wrong, innocence or guilt, between the contending parties. It is closely analogous, in this view, to
the trial by ordeal, and the judicial combat. Whatever
apology for this custom may have been found in those
earlier and ruder times, when law was a less efficient protector of the right and of human life, and when every
man was under the necessity, in a measure, of taking his
defence into his own hands, no such apology or excuse can
ordinarily be urged at the present day. It is a relic of
barbarism, utterly unworthy of the civilization of the nineteenth century. As a means of justice, it is utterly senseless and absurd. At the best, it is an equal chance which
party shall prevail, the guilty or the innocent. Skill in the
use of weapons must usually decide this; and the skill and
the strength that shall give advantage in the combat are
quite as likely to be on the side of the wrong as of the
right.  To speak of obtaining satisfaction by submitting
a dispute to any such process, is simply and purely
ridiculous.
10*
113 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIFE.
In one respect, the duel is certainly more honorable than
secret assassination, or some other forms of homicide, inas much as it gives the assailed party warning, and an oppor tunity for defence.  Still it is, when not a mere farce,
intentional murder, and is accordingly so regarded and
treated by the laws of nearly all civilized nations. No
man has a right to take human life in order to avenge any
real or supposed personal insult or injury; nor has any one
a right to expose his own life, in this manner, to the
murderous assault of a foe.
S!iciele. - The same reasons that forbid one to take the
life of his fellow-man forbid him to take his own. Hle has
no more right to cut short his own life than that of another.
Life is sacred - the gift of the Creator -a treasure which
it is not allowed us to trifle with, which we cannot confer,
and therefore have no right to take away.  Nor is it a
wrong done to himself alone, when, with rash hand, a man
cuts short his own life. Society is wronged. Society has a
claim on him for life, and labor, and valuable service.
There are those dependent, it may be, on his care and
toil, who have a still higher claim upon him. He has no
right to desert them- no right to betray his trust, and
leave those who are dependent on him to struggle alone
with misfortune and want. It is his duty, rather, to stand
up like a true man under the heavy pressure of whatever
trials and calamities may befall him, manfully bearing the
lot of life, and by his presence and example, not less than
his toil, helping others to sustain the heavy load.
It is a striking instance of the insufficiency of the light
of nature as a guide to duty, that among the ancients suicide was regarded as not merely allowable, but, in certain
cases, commendable; and was resorted to by some among
the wisest and the best of the truly great men of that
time, as an escape from the calamities and burdens of life.
114 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIFE.
It rs a melancholy spectacle of the imperfection of human
reason and the human conscience.  It was for Christianity
to reveal the true philosophy of human life,-to make
known the sacredness of life, as such,- to teach the far lof tier courage and heroism of ])atient endurance,- to direct
the eye of the desponding sufferer to that "far more ex ceeding and eternal weight of glory" for which the pres ent sorrows were intended to prepare him, and to which
they are the necessary avenue of approach.  It bade
him run with patience the race set before him, fixing his
eye upon Itimn, the great heroic sufferelr, "who endured
such contradiction of sinners against himself;" and "who,
for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross,
despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand
of the Majesty on HiTgh."
It may be added, that the reasons already urged iagainst
suicide apply equally to any course of conduct by which
life is shortened, or its energies weakened. No man has a
right to shorten his days, or impair his vital energies, by
any course of vicious indulgence or excess   This is only
an indirect form of suicide. Too firequently is this fatal
error committed by those who, in the heat of passion or
the ardor of youth, yield to the impulses of the sensitive
nature, regardless of consequences.   And not alone by
those whlo yield to the dominion of the lower appetites is
this guilt incurred.  In the pressure of business, or the
ardor of intellectual pursuits, the body and the mind may
be, and too frequently are, overtasked, resulting in the premature decay of the vital powers, and an early grave. It
is not by direv~ and intentional acts alone that life is destroyed, and( the guilt of suicide incurred.
I would not be understood, in what has been said, to
imply that life, however sacred, is to be preserved at all
hazards. There are other interests higher and dearer than
lit$ 
116   DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
life itself- interests which we may not sacrifice for the
sake of preserving even life. Rather than betray the cause
of truth and right, rather than desert the principles of
justice and honor, an(l prove recreant to duty and to faith,
a man may well die.  In defence of the innocent and helpless, in defence of the right, in defence of his family and
his country, in defence of his religious belief, he may well
lay down his life, if need be.  As a martyr, as a patriot, as
a lover of truth and justice, there may be occasion io die.
Life is not the highest duty nor the most sacred treasure
of man.
CHAPTER II.
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
Liberty a Natural Right.- One of the first and plainest natural rights of man is the right to himself, -that is,
to liberty, - a right to the disposal of his own time and
industry and personal movements as he sees fit, within
such limits as the rights and safety of others allow. That
this is the intention of nature, is evident from the constitution of man. He desires liberty, and is never happy when
deprived of it.  He pines for it, dreams of it, toils for it,
risks everything to obt.tin it.  To  deprive him of this
light, without due cause, is to inflict upon him one of the
greatest wrongs.  There is nothing, next to life itself, with
which a man will not sooner part than his'.berty.
2ocles iin which one may be cleprived of it.- Of this
right man may be deprived in various ways.  Sometimes
it is justly forfeited by his own conduct; and in that case,
society has the right to take it from him. Sometimes lihe 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
is unjustly deprived of it by the violence and cupidity of
his fellow-man.
Imprisonment for Crime.-1. Society may justly deprive a man of liberty by imprisonment for crime. This
the law has a right to do. The protection and safety of
the community require it. He who violates the rights of
others, forfeits his own; and the principles upon which
society is constituted require it, as a measure of selfdefence, to restrain the liberty of him who abuses his' liberty to the detriment of others.  It may justly imprison
him for trial; and after trial and conviction, it may justly
imprison him for punishment. It may justly require of
him, while thus in confinement as a convict, such amount
of personal labor as shall at least be sufficient for his support. The extent and mode of such imprisonment is to
be determined by law.  When it is protracted beyond due
limit, or is attended with unnecessary severity,- when the
term of trial is needlessly delayed, or when a degree or
mode of punishment is inflicted beyond what the nature
of the offence strictly demands, -the coercion thus exercised become unjust, and society is in turn the aggressor.
Conyftnement of the I)tsaCte. -  2. For the reasons already
mentioned, it is the right of society to place insane persons in confinement, provided the safety of their families
and friends, or even their own safety, requires such restraint.
It is a measure of self-defence, and even of benevolence;
nor is any wrong inflicted upon the sufferer in such a case,
provided the deprivation of liberty be not attended with
any unnecessary severity, or any real unkindness.
Captivity in   Var. -3. Another mode in which one
may be deprived of liberty, is by ccaptivity  in war.  If
war itself is juistifiable, under any circumstances, then it is
allowahle for the victorious party to make such disposal of
its captives taken in war as shall prevent them from tak
117 
118   DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
ing further part in hostilities against itself. This can be
effectually done, perhaps, only by imprisonment; and this
imprisonment may continue until the close of hostilities,
unless previously terminated by the exchange of an equal
number of prisoners taken by the other party. Formerly,
all captives taken in war were reduced to slavery. This
was the great source of supply of slave labor, not only in
Greece and Rome, but in the powerful empires of earlier
origin.  Homer, and the Greek tragedians, represent the
lot of those conquered in war, and also of their wives and
children, as one of servile and hopeless bondage. Among
civilized nations, this mode of conducting war is by univer.
sal consent abandoned.
Involuntary Servitucle. - 4. Still another mode in which
liberty may be taken away, is that form of involuntary ser.
vitude known as slavery. As this is a matter of much importance, and one upon the morality of which conflicting
views are entertained to some extent, especially in our
own country, it seems to require a more full and careful
consideration. It will, therefore, constitute the principal
topic of the present chapter. It will be to the purpose, in
the first place, to define slavery; the way will then be prepared to inquire whether slavery, as thus defined, is a
moral wrong; what its effects are upon the nation, both
as respects morals, and financial prosperity; and, finally,
what arguments may be adduced in favor of it. These
topics, in their order, as now stated, will be discussed in
the following sections.
~ I.- SLAVERY DEFINED.
When the right of personal ownership and personal
control, that properly belong to a man, are taken from
him, for no fault and by no consent of his own, and vested 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
in another, giving to the latter control over the person and
industry of the former, the man thus subjected becomes a
slave, and the one to whom he is subjected is termed the
master. I say for no fault, and by no consent of his own,
-for imprisonment for crime, of which I have already
spoken, is not slavery, though it may be accompanied with
some degree of involuntary service; there is control, but
not owvershil,);   nor are we at present concerned withi
volutttary servitude, in any of its forms.  Slavery, as now
understood,- that is, as an actually existing institution, -.
always implies o)?,ership) on the part of the master, and
iz,voltc,tary servitecke on the part of the slave.
This ownership is complete, and, to a great extent, irresponsible.   The slave is in the same category with any
other property or possession- as truly the property of the
master as the horses or dogs that belong to the same
plantation. The control of the master over the one is as
complete, unlimitedl, and irresponsible, as his control over
the other. His time, his labor, his acquisitions, his person,
his children, are not his own, but his master's. He is to
be bought, and sold, and worked, and whipped, at the master's pleasure.  He has no rights of his own.
Slave Laws accord  with this -Deyi)ition.- This is the
character of complete slavery, as recognized by the laws
of other nations, as well as our own.   "Slaves," says
Gaius, the distinguished Roman jurist, "are in the power
of the masters.  Which power, indeed, is one recognized
by the laws of nations; for among all nations, it is to be
observed, that the power of the master over the slave has
been the power of life and death, and whatever is acquired
by the slave, is acquired by the master."  This we knoQw
to have been not only Roman law, but Roman custom.
The slave had neither security of life, nor property in any
119 
120   DUTIES PERTRAINING'rO LIBERTY.
thing ho might acquire. He belonged to another, and not
to himself.
The institution of modern slavery is based on the same
principles.   The slave is the property of the master, and
has no right to himself. The laws of different states vary,
but the principles of the system are essentially the same in
all.  According to the code of Louisiana, "The slave is in
the power of'the master to whom he belongs. The inaster may sell him, dispose of his person, his indlustry, his
labor; he can do nothing, possess nothing, nor acquire
anything, but which must belong to his master." According to the laws of South Carolina, "Slaves shall be deemed,
taken, reported, and adjudged to be chattels personal in
the hands of their masters, and possessions to all intents
and purposes wiatever."
These, then, I take to be the essential elements of slavery -viz., ownership, property, absolute control.  Where
these exist, there is slavery.
Liniitations of  Po?cer. - Certain limitations of  the
power of the master, may or may not exist in the different states, according as the slave code may be more or less
str;3ct. In some cases, the master is forbidden to put his
slave to death, or treat him with unnecessary cruelty.
Practically, such a limitation amounts to little, when it is
remembered that the testimony of the slave is not admitted on evidence in the courts of' law, and also that it is
for the interest of the masters to sustain each other in the
exercise of discipline and authority over the slaves.  It
must in the nature of the case be extremely difficult, if
.ot impossible, under such circumstances, to obtain clear
and satisfactory evidence  of cruelty on the part of the
master, and equally d(liflicult to secure the impartial administration of justice, even in cases of notorious violation of
the law in question, where the interests of both judge and 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.   121
jury so clearly identify them.with the offending party, and
where the safety and permanent existenice of the system
is seen to depend on firmly sustaining the power and authority of the master over his slaves.
But, even if such limitations could be, as they cannot
be, practically carried out and  enforced,  they do not
change the essential character of slavery, as already defined. They do not make the master less an owner, or
the slave less property or a chattel. They do not invest
him with any rights. They are merely a concession to
the natural feelings of humanity. They are of the same
nature, is Whewell well remarks, with "the English laws
against cruelty to animnals.  It is now penal in this country to torture a horse or a dog; but a horse or a dog are
still only objects of possession, without any rights, or any
acknowledged moral nature."
~ II. - SLAVERY, AS THUS DEFINED, A MORAL WRONG.
It can hardly admit of serious question that slavery, as
thus defined, involves a moral wrong.  In the strong language of Whewell, it is "contr ary to the fundamental
principles of mnorality." It is a wrong, inasmuch as, 1. It
violates the 2iatitral riyhts of man. It reduces him from
a person to a thing-than which no greater wrong can be
inflicted on humanity. The victim of this injustice is no
longer, in the eye of the law, a man; he has become a
mere thing, has no rights, and, consequently, can suffer no
wrong. He stands on a level with the brute. He has
his pleasures and his pains;  so has the brute.  He  has
his natural impulses and desires; the brute also has his.
The strong affections, the tumultuous passions of our nature, that agitate the bosoms of other men, stir also in
his; they have their counterpart, also, to some extent, in
11 
-122   DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
the affections and passions of the brute. Nor, in the eye
of the state, are these feelings of any more value and c()nsequence in the one case than in the other.   Witlh all
their natural instincts, thoughts, feelings, passions, affections, they are both, the man and the brute, and the one
e(!?clly with the other, the property of the master.
Yet this creature, this thing, has that which the brute
has not-a rcitio)ictl a(cl moral nature, anid no man, no
society of men, nor any human legislation, has the right
to dleprive himn of it.  The law tli:at d(oes this, or attcmnl)ts
to do it, is a laIt) wit]hout (i 2i.na(t.  To treat a ri.ition.'l,
moral beiiig as if he were an iiiration.l and irresl-)onsille
creature, - a nman as if he were a brute, - is to inflict the
highest indignity and injustice which  human nature is
capable of receiving.
So palpable is this, that even the Roman jurists admit
that no man is a slave by nature.
Another Elemneitt of Injtstice.- 2. Slavery is a wrong
inasmuch as it not only deprives the slave of his natural
right of self-disposal and control, but subjects him to the
lawless will of a mnaster.  Irresponsible power is a dangerous thing. It is never safe to trust any man with it,
however humane and well-disposed. There is in the human bosom, implanted among its native elements, a love
of power - power over whatever lies about us - power
over our fellow-men especially, as being the most difficult
of control, and affording therefore, when brought under
subjection, a higher sense of pleasure, amounting to a sort
of triumph. The man who can command his fellow-man,
feels his own superiority much more than he who can
exercise his authority only over the lower orders of creation. Now, whenever this power becomes complete and
unlimited; when its word is law, and must be obeyed;
when it becomes the power of absolute ownership; when 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
the being who is subject to it has no will nor voice of his
own, no mode of redress, no rights; when he is the mere
property of another; when he and all that is his-the body
with all its organs and powers, the mind with all its faculties of action and capacities for enjoyment and suffering, the
fi'iends that may gather around him, the wife and children
that may cling to him as their natural protector - all, all
are entirely at the disposal of another, in the power of't
master, and that power, for the most part, and to all practical purposes, unlimited and irresponsible to any earthly
tribunal, - who will say that such power as this can safely
be confided to any man over his fellow-man? Who will
say there is no risk in all this - no danger that a power so
far-reaching and absolute and fearful may be abused?
The True Question.- Now, it is precisely this risk, this
danger of abuse, this almost certainty that, in many cases
at least, the power in question will be abused, that consti
tutes in no small degree the guilt of the entire system.
It is no answer  to say, that in many cases the power is
not abused.   Undoubtedly- this is true.   Unquestionably
many masters are kind and humane. That is not the
point. Even if it could be shown that the great majority
are so, -that kindness is the rule, and cruelty the except
tion,-it would not in the least affect the present argu.
ment. It is precisely these exceptions, liable at any mo.
ment and anywhere  to occur, impossible of pr,cevention
-it is this liability to abuse that constitutes one of the
ilmost appalling features of the system.  Is there no wrIono
in subjecting a man endowed by the Creator with all tho
rights and privileges of humanity, possessing a rational,
spiritual nature that places him, however degraded he may
be, at an infinite remove from the beasts that perish -
is there no wrong in subjecting this rational and accountable being to a servitude worse even than that of the
123 
124   DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
brutes by so much as his nature is superior to theirs?
Is there no wrong in subjecting him to a power which
may be at any moment and to any degree abused, and
against the abuse of which he has no safeguard, no pro tection, no mode of redress?
A  Third -Element.- 3. Slavery is a wrong, inasmuch
as it dleprives the slave of that intellectual, 9)oral, and
religious culture which is his right.   It is essential to
slavery, as a system, that the slave be kept in ignorance.
Any considerable amount of instruction would prove fatal
to the perpetuity of the system. If the slave were once
to know what are his rights, and in what manner it would
be possible to regain them, it is obvious that he would
no longer rest passive under the weight that is crushing
him to the earth. He must not have access, then, to the
thoughts that are stirring the mind and heart of the race
to which he belongs. He must be shut up in a night of
deepest intellectual and moral darkness. It were not safe
even that he should know so much as to be able to read
and write.   To  some extent, oral religious instruction
might perhaps be safely imparted; but even this must be
kept fully within the control of the master. It would be
inconvenient, for example, should the conscience of the
slave, by reason of religious training, interpose itself as a
barrier to the absolute will and caprice of the master.
Nor would it be by any means expedient to place the
Bible, without note or comment, in the hands of a slave
capable of reading and understanding its pages. That
book which has proved the great instrument of fireedom,
civil and religious, in the history of the world, -the
magqna chartac of human rights, -  might teach him truths
which, as a slave, it were better he should not know;
might teach him that God has made of one blood all
the nations of the earth; that to one and the same God 
DUTIES PEFRTAINING TO LIBERTY.
master and slave stand alike responsible f); thle things done
in the flesh, and that this God is no respecter of persons.
Act?al Policy of the System.- -We find, accordingly,
that the actual policy of the system is to keep the slave
as much as possible in ignorance. To teach him to read
or write is made, in many of the slave states, an offence
p)unishable with fine and imprisonment; while to place
in his hands any document containing information calculated to make him discontented with his servitude, is
thought worthy of the most severe and sunmmary punishment.
Need it be said that this is a moral wrong? Is not
mental and moral culture the 7right of every human being
endowed by nature with an intelligent and rational soulof every being made in the image of his God, made moral
and accountable?  Is not the revealed will of God the
birthright of every child of Adam- of every fallen, ruined
being for whom Christ has died?  Have I any right, for
purposes of my own convenience or profit, to deprive
him of this?  Does the system into whose very foundation such a prohibition enters, and which could not exist
for a day without it, involve no moral wrong?
.Essential, as distingtisIhedl from Itcidental Wrongs. -
In discussing the moral character of this institution, I
have spoken only of those evils which seem inseparable
fi'om any system of complete slavery. Of those wrongs
which are incide)ntal to the system, as it exists in this or
in other countries, and which constitute the worst features,
in many respects, of such a system, - as, e. g., the separl
tion of families by sale, the disregard of the marriage tie,
the nameless and shocking barbarities which are of too
firequent occurrence wherever slavery exists, -I purposely
forbear to speak in this connection.  I can conceive of 
11*                           -. 
125 
126   DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
system of servitude that should dispense with the shame
and guilt of these peculiar features, that should be fiee
fiomn the odium of such vices and b.arba:rities; but I cannot conceive of any form or system of complete slavery
that shall be fi'ee firom the wrongs NlNiicli have been discussed in the present section.  Wlherever there is ownership and property in man, and that entire control and
disposal of his person, faculties, and services, which such
ownership implies, there are, and must be, and always will
be, as the  legitimate and  inevitable consequence,  the
wrongs of which I have spoken, viz., the violation of the
natural rights of man, by reducing him firom the condition
of a person to the condition of a thing; by subjecting him
to the irresponsible, lawless will of a master, with the
imnminent dancgei that that power will be abused, and with
11no protection against such abuse, nor redress fiom  any
wrong or outr,age that may be inflicted; and, finally, by
shutting him  ul) in more or less complete ignorance and
darkness- depriviniig lhim of that mental and moral culture
which is his ri,ghlt.  And, in view of these necessary and
essential features of any and all systems of complete
slave,'y, I cannot but pronounce any and every such
system a grievous wrong in morals.
~ III.-EFFECT OF SLAVERY ON THE NATIONAL MORALS AND THE
NATIONAL WEALTH.
In order to a fair andl just appreciation of the real
chlaracter of any system, we must observe its effects, its
practical working, and the consequences that actually flow
from it.  It is not enough to reason a p-iori as to whlat
the moral character of sl:avery nmust be.  It is necessary to
verify such reasonings by actual observation. If the effects
are,disastrous, the system itself cannot be right.  The
~ e 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
tree must be judged by its fruits. There are two points
of view from which the system now under consideration
may well be regarded in its actual working, viz., its effect
on the morals, and on the financial prosperity, of the
state.
I. 0O)  J,Iorals. -There  can be little doubt  that the
arrangement which places one man, or a considerable
number of men, at the entire disposal and control of
another, subject to his absolute and irresponsible will and
power, is a system of things not the most favorable to
moral excellence, whether of the master or the servant.
The exercise of such authority must, in the nature of the
case, tend to foster a spirit of pride and arrogance —to
make a man overbearing and haughty in temper, quick
and irascible, impatient of restraint and contradiction.
The passions of our nature, the animal propensities, ever
ready to assume the mastery, and requiring to be kept
in check with firm hand, finding now no barriers to their
indulgence but those which are self-imposed, will be likely
to break over those feeble barriers, and acquire unrestrained course and  dominion.   The  tendency of the
system to these results in morals, so far as the master is
concerned, is inevitable. AIany and honorable exceptions
there will be; but the tendency is still the same. It must
be so while human nature is what it is. The temptation
to abuse of power over those who cannot or dare not
resist, -to undue severity of punishment, where the passioI0s of the master are roused, and there is none to say
what doest thou, - to the gratification of the baser appetites in their various forms, -must be too great for ordinary and unaided human virtue. The tendency of such a
system must ever be, not to progressive refinement and
moral culture, but to barbarism. We should expect to
find in connection with such a civil polity, a state of
127 
128   DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
society and of morals somewhat peculiar, - acts of rio.
lence and barbarity not infrequent, the street affray, the
duel, the murderous assault, the unrestrained indulgence
of the animal appetites. This it would be reasonable to
expect; and this, unless all history is false, we do find, the
world over, to be the general state and tendency of things
where the system of slavery prevails.
Eject on the Slacve.- Nor is the effect on the morals of
the slave more favorable; on the contrary, it is even more
disastrous. In proportion as the feeling of self-respect and
self-dependence is taken away, and a man is taught to
look upon himself as merely the tool in the hands of
another, the instrument of another's will and pleasure,
without responsibility of his own, just in that proportion
the foundation of moral character is undermined. Nothing can be more demoralizing in its effect uponi the character.  Strip a man of all that constitutes manhood, -of
all self-reliance and self-respect, of all the rights which
nature has conferred upon him, and all the faculties with
which the Creator has endowed him; take away from him
all control and disposal of himself, all ownership of himself,- and all that can stimulate to activity, and incite to
noble attainment and excellence, is gone at once. lIe
sinks down to the level of the brute.  What inducement
is there for him to hope or strive for anything other or
better than his present lot, and the enjoyment which the
moment may bring with it?  He becomes, as a matter of
course, improvident and reckless, content with the gratification, so far as may be, of his merely animal appetites;
indolent- for why should he be otherwise? deceptive and
dishonest -for what motive has he to honesty? governed
only by fear of the lash, with little thought of anything
future, with little knowledge of that hereafter whence are
derived the most powerful motives to present virtue. His 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
mind shrouded in ignorance, his moral nature almost
wholly uncultivated, his condition is little above that of
the beast with whom he toils, and with whom he perishes.
Exceptions there may be, many and remarkable, to this
general law. As in the case of the master, so in the case
of the slave; some will rise above the influences that surround and drag them down, and, in spite of all these
depressing and demoralizing influences, will maintain their
integrity. But such is not the rule, such is not the tendency of the system. No one who has either reflected on
the matter, or observed the actual working of the system,
can honestly suppose that it is. It is a notorious fact, that,
as a general rule, wherever this system exists, the slave
is indolent, deceitful, dishonest, improvident,-not to be
trusted away fi'oin the eye of his master. Can that be a
right system which produces such effects on those whom
it most directly concerns?
II. Effect of the National  Waetlth. - It can hardly admit of question that slavery tends greatly to impoverish
a country.  It exhausts the resources of the most fertile
soil, and seeks ever new and unexhausted territories on
which to plant itself. From these, again, it must in turn
migrate, if it would thrive. We have only to compare
the slave and the free state, lying side by side, in our
own country, alike in climate, soil, and productions, - the
same mountains and rivers and skies common to both, -
the same constitution encircling and the same flag floating over them; -we have but to mark the thrift and
enterprise and accumulating capital of the one, and the
comparative stagnation and poverty of the other, - the
crowded streets, the busy industry, the numerous  population of the one, the sparsely settled condition  and
neglected aspect of the other, - to be satisfied on which
129 
180   DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
side of the dividing line that separates freedom from sei'vitude the sources of prosperity lie.
Nor is it difficult to perceive why it should be so. In
the states where servitude is the established institution
and order of things, labor becomes disgraceful; in the
free state, industry and  honest  toil are honored and
rewarded; and all classes of citizens labor, each in his
own way and at his own employment. The difference is
that which always holds, by the laws of nature, between
idleness and industry, -viz., poverty and wealth. It is
an essential principle, moreover, in political economy, that
in order to the most efficient and productive labor, a man
must have some personal interest in that on which he
labors, else the highest incentive to effort will be wanting.  This is precisely what is and must be ever wanting
in any system of involuntary servitude. HIe who labors
not for himself, but for another, and wvlose chief motive
to effort is the fear of the lash tier than any hope of
reward, is not likely to be the most industrions or profitable of servants.   The system which depends on such
labor, violates the fundamental laws of nature, and cannot
prosper.
~ IV. - ARGUMENTS IN FAVOR OF SLAVERY.
It is not enough, in the consideration of a matter so
important as the present, in its bearings on the happiness
and welfare of the race, to look merely at one side of the
question, without inquiring what may be said on the other.
The result of our inquiries thus far has been adverse to
th.e system in question: it is no more than f.Tir to consider
the arguments in favor of the system.
-Defenced on the ground  of  Farnzily Governent.
Some writers place the matter on the ground of family 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
government, and defend it on that ground as right and to
be justified, when the authority thus exercised seeks, as in
tlie government of the family, the best. good of the governed, and is administered solely with a view to that end.
To this it may be replied, in the first place, that the
supposition now made by no means holds good of the system as a whole. It is not true that slavery, as it actually
exists in the world, or ever has existed in its true and
complete form, is a system the real design and aim of
which is the welfare and highest good of the slave.  I-Iiumane and l)pious masters there doubtless are, andl lhave
been in all periods of the world's history, who have sought
to make their power consistent, so far as possible, with
the welfare of their slaves. They have not been unmindful of the good of the governed.  But that, even in such1
cases, the welfare of the slave has been the direct aim and
end of the institution, the thing for wtzhich it exists, rather
than merely an inci(clei?t(l benefit secured in spite of all
the opposite tendencies and natural results of the systemL,'
no one, I think, can intelligently maintain; much less that
such is the real end and object of the system as a whole.
Everybody knows that the end aimed at in the institution
of slavery is not the good of the slave himself, but the
gain of the master; and to assert the contrary is simply
absurd.   If any one were to assert that the efforts now
making, by government, and individuals, to introduce and
domesticate the camel in this country, were prompted by
a simple and pure regard to the comfort and happiness of
tlhat valuable animal, we shlould( esteem  himn as a person
of lhuiane disl)osition, but sonewvhat weak in understand ilig.  Were we to cite, in confirmation of this theory, tlic
laws wvllicll )iohilbit cruelty to animals, and the many in stalnces in which camels have ben well treated, we should,
while gratified to learn these facts, hardly regard them as
131 
132   DIJTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
establishling the point in question.   That the system of
involuntary servitude, which reduces man from the condition of a person to that of a thing, makes him a mere piece
of property, like a horse or a dog, takes away from him all
power of self-direction, and makes him subject to the
lawless and irresponsible will of a master - that this
system, so repugnant to all natural ideas of right and
justice, has any claim to be regarded as an eleemnosynary
institution, designed to promote the highest good of the
slave, remains to be proved.
-Further Reply.- The argument rests, moreover, on the
assumption that the slave is not capable of self-government,- which has never been shown to be true, but
which, on the contrary, facts seem to contradlict,- and
that, consequently, inasmuch as he is not capable of owning, directing, and governing himself, the master has the
right of owning and governing him, - which by no means
follows. Is the slave unfit to be his own masterl? And,
even if he is, does that give me as an individual the
right to govern him? How came he into that relation
to me, and I to him, that places him in my power, and
gives me the authority to govern him? Have I really
any right to sustain that relation to any of my fellowbeings? Granted: that this man, left to himself, might
not order his affairs so wisely and so well as I could order
them for him- what then? Does it follow that I have
the right to take out of his hands the ownership and control of himself, and make him my property?
Argzment from Inferiority.- The  ground on which
the defence of the system is more' fiequently placed, is
that the negro is by nature inferior to the white race.
His proper position in the scale of being, that for whichl 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
nature evidently intended him, is the condition of servi
tude.  We are depriving him, therefore, of no right when
we subject him to bondage.  This argument is invalid in
its premises, and false in its conclusion.  It is not true
that the negro is by  -atttre-  wlh.tever he may be by the
circumstances of his position - essentially inferior to the
white race.  Facts prove the contrary.  Placed  under
influences equally favorable for mental and moral development, with equal advantages and equal inducements,
he has uniformly shown himself capable of equal attain.
ments.  He is endowed by nature with the same mental
and moral faculties that belong to other men; and those
faculties are susceptible of the same culture.  Hle has the
same affections and passions with other men; the same
sense of right and justice, the same moral nature. The
very laws which forbid the teaching of slaves to read and
write, are of themselves a sufficient contradiction of the
theory of his native inferiority.
But, even if it were as now assumed, could it be showni
that the negro is inferior by nature to the Caucasian race,
it is by no means a legitimate conclusion that the Cau casian is for that reason entitled to reduce the former to
bondage.  The very fact of inferiority, if it be a fact, con stitutes a reason, not for reducing him to a still deeper and
more deplorable degradation, but for elevating him to a
higher and better condition. It is a circumstance which
calls not for severe measures, and the wresting fiom him
in his feebleness and ignorance what light and what
strength he has, but rather for compassion and gentleness;
it is a reason, not for making him my property, and de priving him of all ownership and control of himself, not
for making him a mere chattel, a thing to be used and
abused at my pleasure, but rather for instructing and ele
vating him to something higlher and better than he is.
12
133 
134   DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
Besides, the question naturally arises, tfow  came he to
be thus inferior?  Viewed in its present condition, nluder
all the depressing influences of a state of hopeless servitude, the slave population may well be supposed inferior
ill many respects, both mentally and morally, to the dominant white race. But how came it to be so? Is it cause,
or consequence? Does the condition of servitude result
firom the perceived inferiority, or the perceived inferiority
from the condition of servitude? If by force or fraud I
succeed in catching a man and putting out his eyes, that
surely will not entitle me to make him my slave after that,
because he is blind! The question would be asked, What
occasioned that blindness?
Argument fromn Scripture.-The position which the
advocates of slavery often assume, and of late more frequently than formerly, is that the -Bible recognizes anad
sustains slavery. If this be so, it is certainly a strong presumption in its favor, and will go far to weaken and impair,
if not altogether to set aside, many of the alguments
already presented. It requires, therefore, a careful and
candid consideration.
That slavery is recognized in the Scriptures, both of the
Old and New Testament, is evident; that it is not expressly and directly coitcemne1d or prohibited in either, may
also be admitted; that it is jttstified, either by the spirit, or
precepts, of the sacred writings, is not true; on the contrary, it is emphatically and diametrically opposed to both.
Under the Jewish economy, slavery, in a modified form,
existed, and was suffered to exist- was tolerated, not justified. It stood on the same ground with polygamy, and
similar kindred vices. MIany things were suffered then to
exist which a true and strict morality could by no means
sanction, and which are nowhere sanctioned, but, on the 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
contrary, condemned by the whole spir'it of Christianity.
Such, for example, was the ancient Jewish law and custom
of divorce for the slightest offences, and even for no offence,
but the caprice of the husband. Such the law and custom
of polygamy. On the same ground we may also place the
institution of slav-ery, so far as it then existed.
Jewish and Jfoclern Slavery unlike. -It must be remenmbered, however, that the system of servitude known and
practised under the Jewish economy, was in many respects
essentially different from the slavery of modern times. It
was another and a very different thing. The difference
was as great, as that between an absolute, and a constitutional and limited monarchy.   The power of the Jewish
master over his servant was closely and strictly limited.
The servant was not, in the modern sense, a slave - a mere
piece of property, a thing. He wvas still a man. He had
his rights, and they were carefully guarded and secured by
law. The master was not, either in theory, or practically,
irresponsible. In purchasing a servant, he purchased not
so much the man himself as the right to the labor and ser vices of the man, and even that utnder certain important
restrictions. The purchase was to be made, in the first
place, Tf some foreign nation. If the servant found his
situation disagreeable, and effected his escape, he was not
to be deliverel up to his master (Deut. xxiii. 15, 16); nor
was the servitude in any case to be perpetual. Every
fiftieth year witnessed the release of every servant from
bondage  throughout  the  land.  Religious  rights were
especially guaranteed to the servant. He was to have full
opportunity for religious instruction and worship. If the
master maimed or otherwise abused him, he was to be set
fiee (Ex. xxi. 26, 27); if the slave were killed while
under the master's correction, the master was to be pun  ished (Ex. xxi. 20).
135 
136  DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
Now, it is evident that these are very important restri(
tions. A system of servitude thus modified and limited,
would be a very different institution from any known as
modern slavery.  When these limitations and restrictions
shall have been  adopted  into the slave-codes of those
states where men are now held in bondage; when it shall
be tunla(tfiel to deliver to his master  a slave that has
escaped; when every fiftieth year shall set fiee all that are
in bondage; when every slave that receives personal injury,
to the loss of an eye or a tooth even, by severity of treatment, shall go free for his eye's or tooth's sake; when the
death of the slave under the hand of his master shall
subject the master to severe and certain punishment;
when the full privileges of mental and religious instruction
shall be secured to the slave, -then, and not till then, it
will be time enough to plead the system of Jewish servitude as a precedent for modern slavery.  Such restrictions,
it is perfectly obvious, are quite incompatible with the system as it exists among us; they would bring it to a speedy
end.
Greek and _Roiman SlaCvey. - But the slavery which is
recognized in the New Testament, it is said, was much
worse than that of the Jewish state. In the GreCian and
Roman states the master's power over the slave was unrestricted, amounting even to the power of life and death.
It was to slavery in this its severer and more complete
form, that the New Testament writers had reference. This
is true   But do these writers justify such a system, or
merely recognize its existence? Is it approved, or merely
tolerated?  Is it anywheice defended, and placed on the
high groundl of moral right, or merely recognized as an
existing civil institution?  These are important questions.
It is for those who undertake to defend slavery fiom the
Bible, to show that the sacred writers justify the system of 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
servitude then in vogue; that they recognize not merely its
existence, but its moral rightness. This cannot be shown.
So far from approving and justifying anything of the kind,
the whole tenor of the sacred writings, and- especially of
the New Testament, is directly opposed to all such systems,
laws, and practices.
The spirit of the divine precepts, the sum and substance
of that law which is to govern our conduct, is contained
in that universal rule, "All things whatsoever ye would
that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them."
Our regard for the rights and happiness of others is to be
measured by our regard for our own welfare, and our ownI
rights. Is such a rule compatible with the existence of
such a system of slavery as prevailed in Greece and Rome,
or as still prevails among modern nations? Is it not, on
the contrary, utterly subversive of any and every such
system? Were this one precept carried out, slavery, in
whatever form, and whatever land, would as surely and as
speedily terminate, as night ceases when day begins.
-Duties of Jfltsters and Servants prescribed. -But, it is
said, the New Testament prescribes the duties of master
and servant, and so tacitly gives consent to the system.  It
is true, the gospel enjoins upon the master the duty of
forbearance, and kindness, and of rendering to the servant
that which was just and due, and upon the servant the
duty of obedience to the master.  But these duties are
enjoined, not on the ground of the rightfqtlness of the rela  tion, hut simply as that which, under all the circumstances,
was the best course to pursue, and would be most pleasing
in the sight of God. Precisely in the same way, and on
the same principle, the disciples of the Christian faith were
advised to submit to tlhe arbitrary and tyrannical decrees
and irresponsible power of tyrants, such an one as Nero
even, not because such exercise of tyrannical power was
12*
137 
138   DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
a thing to be justified, a right thing, but because to sub.
mit and to suffer wrong was, under all the circumstances,
better- better for them, situated as they were- than to
resist.  "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord."
Does this justify Nero? On the same principle, the Chris tian disciple was bidden to turn the other cheek to the
hand that had already smitten, since it was better, on the
whole,- better at least for him, as a Christian,- to suffer
outrage patiently than to take his defence into his own
hands.  Does this justify acts of personal assault and violence? They who defend slavery on this ground, must, on
the same principle, if they reason consistently, defend any
system of civil oppression and tyranny, however arbitrary
and unjust, and any personal violence inflicted by lawless
and angry men upon the victims of their ferocity.
In the well-expressed language of an able writer and
moralist,  Dr.  Hickok:   "This obedience  was  by  no
means required on the ground that slavery was righteous, and the master's authority morally valid. It would
be more prudent for the slave to obey, and tend most
to cultivate his piety.  He was required to be obedient
'not only to the good and gentle, but also to the firoward;' even obedient where cruelty and wickedness led
to the'buffeting' of the slave'for doing well.' It was
expedient to obey; just as, when you cannot escape from
a tiger, it is expedient not to provoke him. It by no
means justifies the usurped authority. It was better for
the slave to obey; and especially it would serve to augmnient piety, and recommend the religion of Him, who in
his humiliation was smitten and'opened not his mouth."'
Why not directly forbicd(len.-BBut why, it may  be
asked, was not the system directly forbidden, or -it least
declared to be unjust and morally wonig, if snehll is illeed
its true character?  I reply, it is really forbiddenu by the 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
spirit and the precepts of Christianity - really, though
not directly and explicitly.  The rule to do unto others
whatsoever we would that they should do unto us, as really
forbids that involuntary servitude which exacts of a fellowbeing unrequited service, and robs him of all his dearest
rights, as if the practice of such a wrong were mentioned
by name, and specially prohibited.  A reason doubtless existed for not thus designating it in so many words. It was
a social evil, incorporated into the whole fabric of civil
society and governmient.  To have singled out the evil,
and by direct precept to have prohibited it, would have
been, perhaps, neither the wisest nor the surest mode of re dress. It would have been a direct interference of Chris tianity with civil government. In the language of Dr.
Wayland:  "If it had forbidden the evil, instead of subvert
ing the principle,-if it had proclaimed the unlawfiilness of
slavery, and taught slaves to resist the oppression of their
masters,- it would instantly have arrayed the two parties
in deadly hostility, throughout the civilized world. Its an  nouncement would have been the signal of servile war;
and the very name of the Christian religion would have
been forgotten amidst the agitations of universal blood  shed.  The fact, under these circumstances, that the gospel
does not forbid slavery, affords no reason to suppose that
it does not mean to prohibit it; much less does it afford
ground for belief that Jesus Christ intended to author  ize it."
The lfo(le of Red(ress. - We have been occupied in the
p)receding pages with the discussion of the moral character
of this institution of slavery. It is no part of the business
,)f the moralist, strictly speaking, to point out the best
methods of redressing  the wrongs and evils of society.
This it is for others to do. One thing, however, I may
properly say in this connection.  Whatever nmeasures are
139 
140   DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
adopted, looking to this end, must necessarily be gradual
in their operation, in order wisely and well to accomplish
their purpose. The social fabric is not to be rudely shaken,
nor its whole structure ]rtdic.ally changed in a day.  Time
is requisite, and the slow grokvtll of principle.  Much  is to
be hoped from the progress of society, and the gradual prev alence of more enlightened views, and of a loftier and purer
morality. In proportion as society advances, and Christian ity obtains a firmer hold on the mind and heart of the race,
this system, so utterly at variance with all just notions of
right and duty, and so repugnant to the feelings of conmmon humanity, must and will g,radually disappe)car, as the
shadows firom the mountain side, and the mists fiom the
bosom of the lake, whenl the sun mounts the heavens in
his strength.
Progress of European Society. - If we look at the social
organization of the European nations, we find them, in the
course of centuries, passing through a series of chlanges,
from the state of absolute servitude of the laboring classes,
to that of more or less perfect equality and freedonm. For
some two centuries or more after the Norman conquest,
the greater portion of the cultivators of the soil in England were serfs, or villeii's, as they were then termed,
bound to the soil, and owing service to the proprietor
thereof. The peasant belonged to the soil, and, with all
his family and descendants, fiom generation to generation, was at the disposal of the lord of the manor.  These
unlimited labor-rents were gradually, during the succeeding centuries, commuted into more definite services, and
the peasant acquiied legal righlt, or copyhold, as it was
termed, to tlhe lands whiclh lie cultivated.  It is only about
two  lhundreid vears since the cultivator of the soil in England cease(d to be hleld in personal thraldom.
In ln-ally patLs of (aermliy, serfdom still exists; in otlhers, 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO LIBERTY.
the peasant is no longer attached to the soil, but, instead of
unlimited service, pays his landlord some definite amount
of labor as land-rent; in other cases, this is commituted for
rent in grain or money, and the servitude beconmes.lmnost
nominal.
In Russia, the serf was little better than a slave, except
that his service was limited. He was bound to work for the
owner of the soil a certain number of days in the week,
laboring for the rest of the time, for his own subsistence,
on lands allotted for the purp)ose.  Nor was it until the
accession of the present government that this system was
abolished.
Senttime)zt of Paley.- Soon after the close of the strugrgle by which the American Colonics became independent
of England, Archdeacon Paley, referring to the system of
slavery, and to the part which the En,glish government
had taken in upholdling it, made use of the following Ianguage, in his work on Moral Philosophy:  "The great rev olution which has taken il)ace in the Western world may
probably conduce (and who knows but that it was  de signed) to accelerate the fall of this abominable tyranny;
and now that this contest, and the passioins which attended
it, are no more, there may succeed perhaps a season for
reflecting, whether a legislature which had so long lent its
assistance to the support of an institution replete with
human misery, was fit to be trusted with an empire the
most.extensive that ever obtained in any age or quarter of
the world."  Could this excellent moralist, after the lapse
of three quarters of a century, be l)ermitted to look upon
this Western world as it now is, and behold the present
greatness and prosperity of the country that was then just
commencing its career, as he beheld with astonishment
this dark blot still uil)on our escutcheon, would he not, and
with jutsti,e, repeat, with reference to our own nation, the
141 
142  DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.
question then so forcibly put, with reference to the British
government, "whether a legislature that had so long lent
its assistance to the support of an institution replete withl
human misery, was fit to be trusted with an empire" so
extensive and powerful?
CHAPTER III.
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.
MAN has not only the right to life, and to liberty, but
also to property, or the possession and enjoyment of whatever he may, by his own industry or good fortune, or the
gift of others, have honestly acquired. Prominent amoiig the
duties, therefore, which we owe to our fellow-men, - that
is, to society,- are the duties which have respect to property. The principal topics to be considered are the right
of property, the uses of such an institution, the modes in
which it may be acquired, the different kinds of property,
crimes against propelrty, and the various limitations of the
right of property.
~ I. FOUNDATION OF THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY.
Labor and not Law. -Whatever man produces as the
result of his own skill and labor, is properly his, and no
one else has the right to take it from him. It is his property by a natural right.  There is need of no law, or social
organization and compact, in order to this. His title to
use, possess, and enjoy what he has himself produced, by
I 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY. 143
virtue of his own powers and his own industry, is just as
good before as after, without as with, any such legislation
or compact.  Law and social organization, with its appliances, may confirm and protect him in his right, but do not
create it.
.)ifrecerpt Theories. - According to the view now taken,
it is tile labor expended in originally acquiling, or subsequently inmproving any object of possession, that constitutes the right of property in the same.  In the case of
land, the labor of cultivation renders it more valuable, and
so confers the right of continued possession on him who
has created that value.  This is the view maintained by
Locke, and many others.
Another view of the matter is, that, inasmuch as God,
the Creator of all things, prqvidcd the gifts of nature for
the use of all his creatures, therefore every one has a right
originally to all hlie needs.  In this manner, land, as wcll as
other things, comes to bc the property of the individual.
This is a rule of somewhat indefinite application; and if
carried out, would lead, perhaps, to the disorganization of
society as at present constituted. As regards strictly the
gifts of nature, it is doubtless true that they were intended
for all. Light, air, rain, sunshine, and the like, are firee to all,
and in their nature cannot, under ordinary circumstances,
be appropriated. But it is otherwise with that on which,
by my toil or skill, I have conferred a value. Water is
free to all; but not the water of the well that I have dug
for my own convenience.  Fire is a commodity which nia  ture lplaccs within the reach of all; but not the fire which
my laboir has kindled for my own use.  So land may orig  inally have been free to the first comer; but when he has
once taken possession, and expended  labor and created
value, it is not free to others, so long as he chooses to
occupy it. 
144  DUTIES PElRTAINING TO PROPERTY.
Paley's View.- Paley makes the foundation of property
to be the law of the land, as carrying, out the will and in tention of the Creator.  "It is the intention of God that
the produce of the earth be applied to the use of man.
This intention cannot be  fulfilled without establishing
property.  It is consistent, therefore, with his will that
property be established.  The land cannot be divided into
separate property without leaving it to the law of the
country to regulate that division. It is consistent, therefore, with the same will that law should regulate the division; and, consequently,'consistent with the will of God,'
or'right,' that I should possess that share which these
regulations assign me."
This resolves all right into the will of God, -which is
Paley's theory of right, -and it also supposes that the
laws of the land are in all cases an expression of that will,
- which is by no means certain.  Now, it is perfectly clear
that law regulates the conveyance of property, defines
what is and what is not property, maintains and secures
to the righltfill owner that which properly belongs to him.
It maintains and defends, but it does not create the right
to own. It regulates rather than originates that right.
Constitutiowi of thae Mid. - The right, in itself considered, or in the abstract, is found, if I mistake not, in the
nature and constitution of the  human  mind, -just  as
society itself originates from that same nature and constitution.  This, indeed, reduces itself ultimately into the
divine will; inasmuch as the nature and constitution of
men areic fi'om God, and it was for him to fonrm us with
what  nature, and endow  us  with what  propensities, he
pleased(.  Still, we need go no firther than to the constitution of humI an natra'e to discover the origin of the principle in question.  The desire to possess, to approp)riate, lies
among the native and implanted principles of the mind, 
DUTIES PPRTAINING TO PROPr,RTY.  t45
It slhows itself in earliest life.  The child apl)Iopiia.tes to
I!iinself the toys tlatt are given him, and feels injured if
tlcy are taken firom him by another.  The structure of
language shows that this is a universal principle. Whereever we finl in human speech the use of possessive pro.
nouns, or other forms of language fullfilling that office, we
find the expression of this principle. MAlen, universally,
fceel that there is a right violated, a wrong done, in taking
by violence or fraud that which has been appropriated by
another. Hence, they demand not mere restitution, but
the punishment of the offender.
But while we seek in the structure of the mind itself
the origin and foundation of the right of property in general-of the right to appropriate, in itself consideredthe condition on which that right depends-i. e., the
right to appropriate this or that thing, in any given caseis the circumstance  already pointed out:  namely, that
labor has been originally bestowed in the acquisition of
these thiings, and value created as the result of that labor,
to which value the laborer is justly entitled, as something
he has himself produced.
Objections. -If it be said that we possess many things,
which we call property, on which we have not bestowed
labor, - many values which we have not ourselves created,
as, for example, property inherited or bequeathed, or the
gifts of firiendship, -I reply, these values were originally
acquired or created by labor; they became the property
of the original owner in that way; and the right of possession has been conferred by him on the present possessor.
The  only exception to this rule, which occurs to my
mind, is the accident of discovery: as when, walking by
the bank of a stream, I find a piece of gold ore, or a pearl,
amrnong its sands. In this case, there is certainly no labor
13
I 
1I6  DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.
bestowed on the acquisition further than that of picking
up and apl)propiating what I have discovere(l.  Thle tct of
appropriation constitutes my right in this case, atd lholds
good as against others, on tle ground that no one else has
bestowed labor on the things in question, nn* therefore
no one else has any claim to themn.  Were it otlherwise,were the treasure found not a natural p-iodctit, but  the
result of human labor, as, e. g., a bracelet of pearls, or a
purse of gold coined for use, -  my (is(ovey of tlhe article wolll(d not constitute a riglit oi l)ossessiol-.',gainst tlhe
claim of the real owner.  E ven in thle case sUll)osed,(l tl}e
owner of the soil in which the gold ole or th-e jewels is
found, nmay preseit a counter claim, on the ground( tlat, in
purchasing the soil, he purchased wl.hatevei  value it may
produce or contain.  The soil itself is his property, and no
one else has a right to take away fi'om it any of its values.
In like mannieri, were a meteorite to fall firom the sky
upon my land, my right to that value would depend not
merely, or so much, upon  the accident of discovery, as
upon my previous right to the premises, -  a right purchased by labor in some form.
Vietew of Whactely.- Archbishop Whately, in his Logic,
has made use of this very illustration to prove the opposite doctrine, viz., that the right of property  does  not
depend, ultimately, on labor.  The labor expended in the
production of values is, according to him, not essential to
the existence of value and to property in the same, but is
merely accide )ttcal, -a circumstance that, indeed, usually,
but not always or necessarily, accompanies the possession
of wealth.   The meteorite that falls in my yard  has a
value quite independent of human labor.
It seemis to me, however, that in this instance, Whately,
while attempting to cori'ect a popular fallacy, as lie regards
t, has llimself f.allen into a still more serious error.  Ir we 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.  147
look at the real wealth of the world, the chief values thait
constitute the property of men, we certainly do find theii
to be, in great prolportion, the result of human labor.  TIhe
exceptions are so few and so slight, as compared with the
\whole amount, that they scarcely deserve to be taken into
the account; and instead of calling labor an acci(let(il
circunmstance sometimes accompanying the possession of'
wealth, it were certainly much nearer the truth to call it
the rule, and its exceptions the accident.
Relatioit of the State to private Proj)erty.-According
to the view of some, the state is the supreme and ultimiate proprietor and controller of all property.  The natural right must, in all cases, be held subordinate to the public authority. It is for the state to determine what shall
be considered as the property of every citizen, and no
man can hold any property, or'call it his own, except as
under the law of the land.  All individual right is thus
resolved into state right. Such is the view maintained by
some able writers, amnong others by Dr. Ilickok.
According to this view, the individual right to property
is derived fromi the state.  The natural right is no right
unless the state sanctions it. This view seems to destroy
individual right and liberty,- to merge the individual citizen, with all his rights and powers, in the state,- thus
making the state all in all, as in that theory of political
organization which Plato has left us.
In reality, the state confers no right, as to property,
which did not previously exist, and which would not llavee
existed even had there been no such thing as a state. It
confirms and establishes existing rights.  It regulates the
sale and transfer of property. It inquires into the validity
of titles and the terms of contract, and takes care that
those terms shall be fulfilled. The state is merely a social
organization, contrived for the purpose of more effectually 
148  DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.
securing and maintainin      g t he rights and liberties of the
whole body of individual citizens, -in other words, the
public good.
It has no power, except that of the individual arms that
compose its aggregate strength; no rights or autlhority,
except such as may be conferred on it by the body politic.
It owns, and can own, no propei'ty, except such as belongs
to the citizens that constitute the state, either in tlheir private, individual capacity, or as a public body.  Whatever
right or control of property the state has, it derived originally from the people.
In order to carry out the purposes for which the state is
created, it must have control and disposal of so much of
the public property as is necessary to the subsistence, defence, and well-being of the state; must have power to
lay out roads, levy taxes,' etc.; and, whenever, in pursuance of such objects, the public claim comes into conflict
with individual claim, the latter must yield to the former,
on the principle that the majority govern. When, for
example, the land held by any citizen is needed for some
public purpose, as a road, for instance, the state has the
right to take it fiom him for that purpose; but not without
equivalent to the full value of the property taken.  Otherwise, government becomes a despotism, and there is no
longer security for individual right.
~ II. -ADVANTAGES OF THE INSTITUTION OF PROPERTY.
Granting the right, which has been already discussed,
the question may still arise, Of what use is the institution
of property, or private possession?  Why may not society
hold its goods in common, every man taking fi'om the
common stock that which he needs for his own present
wants, and that only?  Why  should one particula.r por 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.  149
tion of the soil, for example, be set off to my share, with
its various products, and another to my neighlbor?  What
advantage results from such distribution?
Cositrib~ttes to the Comfort a,dl IJl()piness of JXan.
That there are some disadvantages resulting fi'om the distribution of property, cannot be denied.   On  the other
lhand, there are many and obvious advantages; prominent
among which must be reckoned the contribution  thus
made to the comfort and happiness of the race. Man is
so constituted, as we have already seen, that he naturally
desires to possess, andl call his own, the objects that min
ister to his wants. He enjoys that which is his own and
not another's. The waters firom his own spring, the fruit
from his own tree, that he has himself planted and nurtured, the game which his own bow has brought down,
or his own net captured, are sweeter and pleasanter than
any other.
He not only enjoys more what be thus possesses, but
he possesses more in consequence of this arrangemnent.
Were there no such thing as property, there would be no
division of labor; every man would be obliged to hunt,
and fish, and cook, for himself; to make his own clothes,
and his own hut, or tent; to provide for all his own wants.
lie would, in consequence, be very poorly provided. His
implements of labor would be rude and clumsy; his conveniences of living, scanty. His time and attention being
divided among so many pursuits, he would acquire little
skill in any of them. By devoting himself to some one
art or profession, he becomes expert in that; and by exchanging the products of his skill and labor for other
commodities, which in like nianner have been produced
by other laborers, the objects of enjoyment at his com
mand become greatly augmented.  But this implies prop
13* 
150  DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.
erty in what is thus produced, as otherwise there can be
no rioght of exchange.
A4qmerats the Piro(1cce of the -Ec'th. -It is a further
advantage of the arran.gemient in question, tThat it greatly
increases the products of the soil.  In order to fertility, and
tile gieatest productiveness of the earth, therc mnust be labor and due cultivation.  It produces little spontaneously.
But where there is no property in the soil and its products, where they are the common possession of all, where
those who  do not labor share equally with those who do,
there is no incitement to labor - no itniducement to put
forth the exertion requisite to the proper cultivation of
the soil.  Tillage will inevitably be neglected, and the
community will grow poor together, in proportion to that
neglect.  The products of the earth, as every one knows,
are our chief source of national wealth - the foundation,
in fact, on which other modes and sources of p)roductive
ness must ultimately rest.
The effect of leaving land and produce to be held in
common, is seen in the neglect of agriculture by  the
North American native tribes — gathering a precarious
and scanty supp)ort from an amount of territory sufficient,
under proper management, to feed and clothe a hundred
fold greater population.   It has always been observed,
also, that where, amniong civilized communities, a piece of
ground or other property has been held in common, it is of
little use to any body. The fruit of a tree that grows by
the roadside, and is regarded as public property, is seldom
a.llowed to come to maturity. It would be much the same
with all other products, in like circumstances.
Promotes Civilization. - Without individual possession
and right of property, there can be no division of labor,
as I have sa,id; and without division of labor, there can
be little progress in civilization.  The advantages of civ. 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.  151
iltzed over savage life, depend in a great measure on those
mechanic arts which supply the conveniences and luxuries
of refined society, and which, in turn, (,an never be carried
to any degree of perfection, where the workman is not
permitted to derive the benefit of his own skill and industry.
The state of Europe during the middle ages, when despotic power prevailed, when the laborer belonged to the
soil that he cultivated, when the rights of private property were little regarded, and the wish of the strongest
was law, as compared with the state of the same countries
at the present day, when peace and constitutional law
have given security to private rights, is a striking illustration of this truth. We see the same thing illustrated
also in the present state of Syria, and other countries of
Asia and the East.  Despotic power prevails, and the laborer is not sure that he shall be permitted to enjoy the
product of his field. His grain, his flocks, his produce of
whatever kind, are liable to be taken firom him at any
moment, by the rapacity and extortion of the lawless
agents of government.   There is, consequently, no inducement to labor, more than is necessary for absolute
subsistence.  Agriculture is neglected, and the mechanic
arts. Society lingers in the twilight of barbarism.' On
the contrary, wherever, under free and well-ordered gov.
ernments, we find the rights of private property respected
and secured, there we find the arts and agriculture flourishing, property accumulating, society rapidly advancing.
Ie)quality of Distribution. - But, while the institution
of property has its obvious advantages, it is not to be denied that certain disadvantages, and perhaps abuses, flow
from it. Nothing seems, at first sight, more unjust than
the extreme inequality with which property, the actual
wealth of the world, is distributed among men. One man 
152   DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.'
has a for'tune, another is reduced to beggary.  One rolls
in luxury, and counts his millions, and mealsures I,is estates
by the square mnile; another toils for the meriest I)ittance,
and barely subsists on the soil which he cultivates for
another. Nor is it always the most industrious, the most
talented, or the most deserving, that reap the largest reward. The weak, the profligate, the idle, the vicious, may
be, and often are, the favorites of fortune, revelling upon
the proceeds of the sweat and toil of honest industry.
Paley's Illuestration. - This anomaly has been very
forcibly represented by Dr. Paley, in the well-known allegory of the flock of pigeons:  "If you should see a flock
of pigeons in a field of corn, and if (instead of eaclh picking
where and what it liked, taking just what it wanted, and
no more) you should see ninety-nine of them  gathering
all they got into a heap; reserving nothing for themselves
but the chaff and the refuse; keeping this heap for onethat, the weakest, perhaps worst pigeon of the flock; sitting
round and looking on all the winter, whilst this one was
devouring, throwing about, and wasting it; and if a pigeon
more hardy and hungry than the rest, touched a grain of
the hoard, all the others flying upon it, and tearing it to
pieces; -if you should see this, you would see notlinig
more than what is every day practised and established
among men. Among men you see the ninety-nine, toiling and scraping together a heap of superfluities for one
(and this one, too, oftentimes the feeblest and worst of the
whole set-a child, a woman, a madman, or a fool); getting
nothing for themselves but the coarsest of the provision
which their own industry produces; looking quietly on
while they see the fiuits of all their labor spent or spoiled;
and if one of the number take or touch a particle of the
hoard, the others joining against him, and hanging him
for the theft." 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.  153
Fallacy of this Statement. -It is important to be borne
in mind that, in the present constitution of things, all
property represents, and is the product of labor, performed
at some time, and by somebody. The labor expended
in the product may not have been put forth by the pres
ent possessor of the product, but at some time long pre
vious, and by some one whom he has never seen.  It may
have come into his hands by inheritance from some remote ancestor. However that may be, it is none the less
the product of labor. So far as other men are concerned,
it is the same thing as if the present possessor had acquired it by his own industry and skill. So much industry, so much toil, so much skill, lie embodied and represented in this wealth which is accumulated in the coffers
of the present proprietor.  His lordly mansion, his nobl.
acres, his fine grounds andl estates, are the product for
which a full price has been paid, in that which is the ultimate price of all requisitions, viz., human labor.
The illustration of Paley overlooks this fact.  The
pigeon which he describes seated in the midst of the
flock, enjoys the products of the labors of those around
him, to which he has no right. It is not his labor; it is not
his product. He has no claims to it; it belongs to those
who are engaged in heaping it together.  But in the distribution of property among men, it is not so; the rich
man has that only which he has acquired by his own toil
and economy, or which has rightfully descended to him
from those who in the first instance acquired it in this
manner. He has a claim and a right to all that he calls
his.  The poor man, on the other hand, has equal claim
and right to all that he produces, be it more or less; and,
so far fiom hanging him if he touches it, or preventing
him from the full enjoyment of it, society protects him
in that right,  So far as designed to represent the ule 
154  DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPIE'TY.
qual distribution of property, then, the illustration of Dr.
Paley, while amusing and ingenious, is by no means a fair
and correct representation of the case.   The  argument
which it conveys is sophistical.
~ III.-MODES IN WHICH PROPERTY MAY BE ACQUIRED.
The First Ownershi.- The  first ownership of all
things lies with the Creator of all, and is his gift to his
creatures.   So far as I have need of these things, and
no one else has, by any reason, a higher claini to them,
I may regard that which I find ready at my hand, and
adapted to my wants, as the gift of the Creator to me,
his creature. That I need it, and can have it without
interfering with the rights of others, in itself constitutes
in some sort a title to the thing.  Such is the case as
reg,ards the spontaneous productions of the earth, game
running wild in the forest, unclaimed lanids, etc.  Such,
in the primitive state of society, was the case with most
of those values which were in that rude stage of civilization possessed.
Acquisitioni by Efort. - But, aside fiom this primitive
acquisition by gift fiomn the Creator, the chief mode in
which property may be acquired is by labor.  As society
advances, and man's wants increase, he no longer depends
on those spontaneous productions of the earth found ready
at his hand, and which may be regarded as the direct gift
of God to man.  The cave which has hitherto sheltered
him, is exchanged for a more comfortable abode; the simple
fruits that have satisfied his hunger, are replaced by food
of greater variety and abundance; the skins of animals,
that constitute as yet his clothing, are laid aside fo)r some
more convenient apparel; and these advances are all the
product of labor. To obtain these better accommodations 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.  155
hlie fells the forest, he builds, he tills the ground, he plants,
he weaves, he spins; and what he thus acquires as the
result and reward of labor, becomes his own, because the
labor with which it was procured was his own; and no one
has a right to take it fi'om  hilm without his consent, and
without just compensation.
There is, however, a limitation to be here considered.
He who acquires property by labor is entitled to the pro
ceeds of thalt labor only, and not to the proceeds of those
previous values on which that labor may be expendedl. If
I cultivate land belonging to another, ol make use of tools
and impllements which are the  )property of another, this
land, these tools and implements, are already existilng
values, onI which the labor of others has previously been
bestowed; and when I unite my labor with thleirs, as I do
in making use of these things, I am entitled manifestly not
to the whole, but only to a share of the proceeds.  It is
right that hlie who  has bestowed labor on the land, in
acquiring possession of it, and preparing it for cultivation,
and on the tools and implements which hlie has invented
and manufactured, and which I have used, should receive
the benefit of his labor, as well as I of mine.
Acq?tisitiogn by Exchange.  That which I have acquired,
and which is rilghtfully my own, I may not choose to keep.
It may be more in quantity than I need for my own use;
or I may prefer some other value in place of it.  I may
part with it, therefore, for something in return; and this is
excha(tge.  This is still another mode of acquisition; and
whllat is thus acq(llire(l, becomes my property as really and
rightfully as if my own 1;,bor had beell explended originally
and directly ill its )pro(iuction.
A  gr,c:lt 1)a.t of the actual possessions of any man  in
civilized society are thus acquired; comparatively few of 
156 DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.
the things which he calls his own are the direct pro)duct
of his own industry. For the most part, we neither build
our own houses, nor make our own garments, nor prepare
our own food, but employ the labor of others for these
purposes.
Acquisition by Gift and Inheritance.-Another mode of
acquisition is by the conferring of value gratuitously, as
when I receive a gift from a friend, or when property is left
me by inheritance. The rightful owner of any possession
may, if he chooses, part with the same without receiving
an equivalent in return. It is at his disposal, and he may
convey the right of ownership now vested in him to
whomsoever he pleases. When this is done informally, it
is called a gift. When property is conveyed by will, or by
due forms of law, at the decease of the original owner, it is
termed inheritance.
Qtuestion as to Right of Possession. - Does mere possession, in any case, confer the right to possess? Suppose
I have, by dishonest means, obtained possession of valuable property; suppose, moreover, that the rightful owners
are all dead, and that no one has now any better claim
than myself to this property-that is, no one has anv claim
at all; -does my possession, the fact that it is now in nmy
hands, entitle me to keep possession of it? Dr. Wayland
answers yes; I have no moral right to the property, but I
have the right to exclude others from it, who have no
better claim than I have. This may be; and yet I may
have no10 right to retain possession of it myself. The state,
in such a case, becomnes the proper recipient. I may not be
under obligation to give uip the property to any individual
claimant, but I may be uiier obligation to give it up to
society for the benefit of the whole, The mere fact thait 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.  157
thie property is now in my hands gives me no right to
retain possession, inasmuch as it came into my hands unfawfully. There may be cases where simple possession
entitles the holder to retain; as where no right of another
is violated in the original acquisition; where the object
acquired is, previous to its acquisition, the property of no
one individual, as in the case of fruits growing by the roadside, or nuts in the forest, or game on the prairie, or land
lying unclaimed in a new and uninhabited territory. In
such a case, simple possession holds good against all subsequent occupancy by another. But such is not the case
now supposed.
The principal modes in which property may be acquired,
are those iiow stated - viz., by the direct gift of the Creator, by labor of acquisition and production, by exchange,
by donation and inheritance.
~ IV. -DIFFERENT KINDS OF PROPERTY.
Personal and Real.   It has become usual to divide
property into two kinds or classes - personal, and real;
the latter including possessions in land, houses, etc.- whatever is in its nature a fixture, not easily moved; the former
including all other species of property, such as admits of
transfer firom place to place. That which we term real
estate, was not probably, at first, recognized as property at
all, but became so only as society and civilization progressed. The cave that sheltered the wanderer, and the
pasture that fed his flocks, were his only so long as he
occupied them. After that, they were free to the next
comer.
History of Property.- The first objects of property
were probably the fruits of the earth, the spontaneous pro                           14 
158  DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.
ducts of the soil, which became the property of the indi.
vidual by the simple act of gathering and appropriation to
his own use. The labor of acquiring these fruits might
have been very slight; but it was sufficient to constitute a
difference between him who had, and him who had not, in -
this manner acquired possession. Soon the products of
the chase would be added to the list of rightful possessions; and these, as they would require more labor and
skill in the acquisition, would for that reason belong, by a
still clearer right, to the individual who had acquired
them.
In like manner, tools and implements for the chase, or
for the gathering and preparing of the fruits of the earth,
tents, weapons of protection, and whatever of the like sort
was early found necessary to the comfort and subsistence
of man, would come to be regarded as property. In the
progress of time, flocks and herds of domestic animals
would constitute a portion of the wealth of man. Not
until the country became somewhat thickly inhabited, and
man began to turn his attention to the cultivation of the
soil, would land itself come to be regarded as property;
and then only as each occupant expended labor on the soil,
and mingled his products with it, would he acquire a igliht
of individual appropriation.
Accordingly, among the earlier and less civilized nations,
we find no trace of property in land.  The North Amierican native tribes seem to have known nothing of it. The
Scythians, while they appropriated cattle and horses, left
their land in common.  When Cesar invaded Britain, lie
seems to have found no traces of property in land. This
species of property came to be a permanent possession,
probably, not until the organization of society, and of civil
government, fixing by law the right of the individual to 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.  159
the soil he cultivated. Previously, it was property only by
possession and actual occupancy.
Property as Regulated by Lat. - Inasmuch as land is
less obviously the property of an individual than are those
possessions which he can carry with him firom place to
place, and as the right of ownelrship is, therefore, maintained with more difficulty, this species of property is made
more directly and peculiarly the object of legislation. The
ancient law of England regards land as the chief part of
pi)roperty, all other things being treated as only appendages
to persons. Hence the distinctive terms, real property,
and personal property.   *
The cultivator and the proprietor of the soil are not
always the same person, nor of the same class. In such a
case the rights of each are determined by law- the cutltivator giving to the proprietor a certain share of the proceeds, which is termed rent. This may be given in produce,
as in Asia, where the proprietor, usually the sovereign,
receives one-fifth, commonly, of whatever is raised on the
land; or, it may be in labor, as in Russia and Germany,
where the peasant pays his rent by working a definite
portion of his time for the exclusive benefit of the landlord. The cultivator is then termed a serf. In other
countries of Europe one-half the produce of the land
goes to the owner of the soil, one-half to the cultivator.
In England, between the landlord and the cultivator,; we
find an intermediate class, termed farmers, who give to the
owner of the soil his rent, and to the laborei his wages,
retaining what is left after these deductions as their own
profit.
Feudal Systemn. - There prevailed for some centuries in
Europe, a system of land tenure, according to which the 
160  DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.
proprietor held himself bound to protect the laborer as
against other persons, and the laborer in turn was bound
to render to his superior certain fixed and valuable services.  The relation of the two was one of mutual dependence, the lord requiring the service of the vassal, and the
latter the protection of the lord. On this condition the
vassal held certain lands as, in a modified sense, his ownpaying fixed dues to the lord, and yielding also personal
service as a soldier in arms. The land thus held by the
laborer was termed a Fetect, or Fee; hence the expression,
Feudal System. The land thus held was not the absolute
property of the laborer, however, nor yet even of the lord;
but its ultimate ownership vested in the sovereign. The
laborer who held no fees or feuds, was termed a Villein,
and was little better than a serf.
~ V. - CRIMES AGAINST PROPERTY.
There are three principal modes in which the right of
property may be violated. One may take what belongs to
another, clandestinely, without the owner's knowledge.
This is theft. Or, he may take it by violence, as when a
highwayman  presents a pistol and  demands money, or
when a band of armed men storm a castle, or ravage a
territory, and plunder its treasures. This is robbery. Or,
yet again, the consent of the owner may be fraudulently
obtained, by deceiving him as to the real nature, or the
market value, of the commodity offered.
Theft. -To take the property of another without his
knowledge, and fuill, free consent, with design to appropriate
it to our own use, is a violation of the right of property,
and is justly regarded as a crime. It matters little whether
the amount thus clandestinely appropriated be large or 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.  161
small, whether it be of great or trifling value, whether its
loss will be severely felt by the owner or not; in any case
it is a violation of right, and, as regards the moral character
of the act, it is essentially one and the same.  Even if it
should so happen that the owner has no objection to the
transfer, still, so long as we presume upon this willingness,
without first obtaining his consent, we are guilty of theft.
Robbery. -In case of violence offered for the purpose
of obtaining consent not otherwise given, the crime is aggravated. The double offence is committed, of violence
to the person, and violation of the property. I have no
right to threaten the life or personal safety of another; no
right to take his property; still less a right to accomplish
the latter object by means of the former. The offence is
aggravated, and  deserves, and  is everywhere held to
deserve, the severest punishment. To compel consent by
means of violence, is a greater crime than to take the
property by force, and without the semblance of consent.
Cheating. - But it is not enough that consent be attained, and that it be freely given; this may be, and still
the right of property be violated. That consent must be
honestly and not fraudulently obtained, else the transaction is criminal. The greater part of the crimes against
property are of this nature. The number of burglars,
thieves, highway robbers, is small, in comparison with the
numiber of those who, in business transactions, hesitate
not to cheat and defraud their fellow-men. The latter are
as really guilty of crime, though not perhaps,'in some
respects, of so great a crime, as the former; nor is the one
a more respectable and honorable mode of procedure
than the other.  The command, "Thou shalt not steal."
is as really broken in the one case as the other. Nor has
14* 
162 DUTIES PI'ERTRAINING TO PROPERTY.
hlie who cheats his fellow in a small way, and under cover
of a business transaction, the same apology for his crime
that the more daring offender may often urge. The man
who breaks into my house, or who demands my purse on
the highway, may be driven to his desperate course by want
and absolute starvation.   The man who, pretending fair
and honorable commerce, cheats me out of a few pennies,
can plead no such apology for his dishonesty and meanness.
[oles of CAleati?,g. - There are various modes in which
this species of dishonesty may be practised. It may be
done by presenting for sale goods that are damaged, or in
some way inferior to what they seem and are taken to be,
deficient in quality or in quantity, a poorer article than we
represent, and than we intend that the buyer shall suppose.
This is as really a fraud as if we were slyly to abstract just
so much in value from the pocket of the purchaser.
Another mode is to mislead the buyer as to the market
price of the article sold. When a man devotes himself
to the business of exchanges, he is understood to possess
some skill in the-matter of purchasing, and to receive a
fail- compensation for that skill, as well as for his time and
trouble; he is understood also to furnish goods at the
ordinary market prices.  If, now, his skill in any particular instance fails him; if he finds that he has purchased at
a given price what is not really worth so much; or if, the
article being good, the price falls while it is upon his
hands, he has no right to remunerate himself at the expense of his customers -no right to take advantage of
their ignorance, and sell to them at a price beyond the
real value, on the ground that it cost him at that rate.
This is to deceive the customer, and, in reality, to defraud
himn. If the trader is at liberty to reap the benefit of a
rise of prices while the goods are in his possession, he is, 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.  163
on the same principle, bound to give the buyer the benefil
of an accidental decline of prices. If, on the other hand,
hle adopts the rule of selling as he bought, he is bound to
apply it equally to both cases, and give the customer the
benefit of a purchase below the present market price.
It is always understood that the trader furnishes his
goods at the ruling price in the market. Hle takes care
to have this understood. Hlis credit and success depend
on it. ilence he is bound to fulfill an expectation in itself
so reasonable and universal, and which he has himself
contributed to form.   This obligation is violated, not
merely by assuring the customer that he can procure the
article in question nowhere at a cheaper rate, -which,
in the case supposed, would be a direct falsehood,- but
equally by silence; since where nothing is said, the buyer
presumes, and has a right to presume, that he is giving
only the ordinary market price.
False Information. - Closely allied to this very common species of dishonesty is another-the circulating false
information respecting the value, quantity, or price of any
kind of goods, with a view to effect the sale; as, for ex.
ample, when the stock broker, by false reports circulated
on'Change, seeks to raise or depress the price of stocks;
or when the speculator, monopolizing a given article, conveys the impression of a scarcity, when in reality there
is an abundance of that commodity. This latter method
of procedure becomes the more culpable when it affects,
not the luxuries and conveniences, but the very necessaries of life, as in the case of monopolies of flour and grain.
.Monopoly. -The  question may  here arise, whether,
aside from any false impression thus conveyed of a scarcity
which does not really exist, the monopolizing an article of
trade for the purpose of raising the price, is in itself a 
164  DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.
species of dishonesty. Suppose a merchant, for example,
to purchase all the ivory, or all the indigo, or saltpetre
in the market; suppose him to extend his transactions in
this line to all the commercial cities in the country, pur chasing all that can be procured, wherever found; slp)pose
him then to raise the price of the article, depending on
the demand to ensure a sale at the advanced rate. Where,
it may be asked, is the dishonesty of such a proceeding?
Everything is fair and open in the transaction.  The mnerchlant has simply to say, I hold in my possession such and
such goods, and you can have them if you like at such a
price.  It is true they have been often sold at a much
lower price, but they are not now to be obtained except
at the rate mentioned. Buy, or not, as you please. What
is there of dishonesty in this?
I cannot see that there is, properly speaking, any dishonesty or fraud in such a proceeding. It is not deception;
it is not cheating. The goods are offered at what is, for
the time, the market value,-that is, they cannot, for the
present, be obtained for less, in other markets.   In a
word, the merchant in question has it in his power to fix
the market value of the goods, and does so.  This he certainly has the right to do, in the case supposed. If the
articles in question were necessaries of life, he would have
no moral right to establish a monopoly, and then fix on
them a price that should place them beyond the reach of
all except the rich. But such is not the case supposed.
But, while we may not class such a transaction with the
various forms of dishonest dealings, it must be admitted
that public sentiment, and the common sense of mankind,
very generally disapprove of this method of procedure,
as not altogether just and honorable.  It is taking what
seems to be an undue advantage of the community.   The
profession of the merchant is one that is supposed to be 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.  165
for the public good. He comes between the producer
and the consumer, for the advantage of both.  It is better
for both that there should be a class of men Nwlo shall
devote themselves to the business of exchanges.   But
when the merchant, taking advantage of his position,
puts upon his goods such a price that the community
is rather injured than benefited by his transactions, no
reason can be shown why such a business or profession
should exist. The public good requires that it should
cease to be.
Dishoiiesty of the Btyer.- It is hardly necessary to
remark that the same rule applies to the buyer as to the
seller.  He is under obligation to pay a fair profit to the
trader, in remuneration for the skill, labor, and capital
employed by the latter in the business of purchasing;
and any attempt to defraud him of this remuneration, by
any of the tricks of trade, or by underrating the true
value of the goods, is a species of dishonesty.
Excuses. -The  various modes  of dishonest dealing
which have been mentioned, are firequently justified, by
those who employ them, on the ground that such practices are nearly universal; that if they did not practise
them, others would; that the competition is so great, that
they could do no business; that in no other way can they
live, and support their families.  I reply: these excuses
even granting the validity of the statements - make the
practices in question none the less immoral and dishonest.
If every other person employed in the traffic cheats his
customers, by giving them light weight and short measure,
diluted and adulterated liquors, damaged in place of perfeet articles, or by selling at a higher than the true market
value, it is none the less a fraud for me to do the same.
If the competition is such that I cannot carry on the 
166  DUTIES PERTAINING TO PROPERTY.
business without resorting to such artifices, it is quite
time that I was out of it, and in some more  honest
employment. As to the argument from the necessity of
living and supporting one's family, "it is obvious," says
Dr. Wayland, "that, were this plea allowed, it would put
an end to all questions of morals; for there never was an
iniquity so infamous as not to find multitudes who were
ready to justify it on this plea."
Limitations of the Righty   of Prop)erty.- In this connection may be noticed certain questions respecting the limitation of the right of property. Cases may arise in which
there shall seem to be a necessity for taking the property
of others without their consent. Of the right of the state
to take so much of the land of any citizen, with the buildings and improvements thereon, as may be necessary for
the public good, in laying out roads and constructing other
public works, I have already spoken. Such right must be
conceded, and that irrespective of the owner's consent,
though not without a fair equivalent. On the same principle, the individual is bound to meet his given proportion
of the public expenses, in the shape of taxes; and if he
refuses to do so, the state may take so much of his property
as is necessary for this purpose, without his consent.
But, aside from these and the like instances, in which the
state comes into conflict with the citizen, cases may arise
in which the private individual, or a company of individ
nals, may find it necessary, in order to the preservation of
life, to appropriate the property of another. A ship is in
a storm at sea, and, in order to the preservation of all on
board, it may be necessary to throw overboard a portion
of her cargo. That, however, is private property, and to
obtain the consent of the owner is, under the circumstances,
impossible   In such a case, no one can hesitate.  Life is 
DUTIES PERTrAINING TO Ise PUTATION. 167
more valuable than property; and even if it were not, the
property fares no worse than it would if the ship went
down with all on board. It will be lost, in either case.
Nothing is gained to the owner by the attempt to save it.
In like manner, and on the same principle, if the provisions fail in a ship, and the passengers are in danger
of starving, there can be no question that they have
the right to appropriate so much as may be necessary of
the ship's cargo to their own support. These, and the like,
are cases of necessity, against which there can be no law.
Jurists accordingly, both ancient and modern, have admitted that, utinder such circumstances, the right of property
must give way to higher rights and interests. Whether,
under other and ordinary circumstances, a starving man has
the right to take food not belonging to him, may admit of
question, inasmuch as society usually makes provision foi
his relief in another mode.
CHAPTER IV.
DUTIES PERTAINING TO REPUTATION.
.Relnitatto( a        l -ight. -Among the springs of human
action, there is none more powerftil, or more universal,
than the love of esteem. It has its seat in the constitution
of our nature. Reputation is one of the goods which every
man desires to get and to keep; among the first and greatest, indeed, of those goods - than which no possession is
more valuable, no right more sacred.  A good name is
better than gold. No wealth can purchase it; once lost,
no treasure can replace it. Hence it is held always among 
168 DUTIES PERTAINING TO REPUTATION.
the dearest and most precious of earthly possessions. Its
loss may entail the most serious consequences.
Society is bound to protect every man in the possession
and enjoyment of whatever justly belongs to him; hence
it is bound to protect him in this, as one of his most valuable and sacred rights. This is a principle recognized by
the laws of civilized society, both ancient and modern.
"Est enim famae, ut et vitae, habenda ratio"- Reputation,
as well as life, is to be regarded in law - was a maxim of
Roman jurisprudence. The laws of England and of our
own country, in like manner, take cognizance of injuries
affecting the reputation, no less than of injuries affecting
the property and the life. There is reason and justice in
this. One who by industry, skill, and patient toil, has built
up a fortune, is justly entitled to the possession and enjoyment of the same.  If now, by the same industry and skill,
he has acquired a reputation, as artist, merchant, or professional man, is he not by every principle of justice and right
entitled equally also to that? And is not the latter often
much the more valuable acquisition of the two? To diminish the esteem in which he is held, and rob him wholly
or in part of his justly earned reputation, is to inflict on
him a much more serious injury than to rob him of money.
The violation of the right now under consideration is
known under the general name of slander; and in treating
of this crime, it will be to our purpose to define whalt this
term properly includes; to inquire further what the law
of reputation requires and forbids, and in what cases it is
allowable to speak to the injury of others; and, finally, to
show reasons why we should not, without cause, speak evil
of any one. These topics will be severally discussed in
the following sections 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO REPUTATION. 169
~ I. - SLANDER DEFINED.
I understand this term to include all forms of detraction.
It is the utterance of anything calculated to injure the
good name and character of another, without due cause,
whether maliciously, or inconsiderately.   The utterance
may be nmalicious-designed to injure.  All enemy, or a
rival, may take that way to gratify his revenge, or to pull
down a comnpetitor whom he cannot successfully encounter
in a more open and honorable way.  This is the height of
meanness, and a crime of no ordinary turpitude.
Or the act may be an inconsiderate and thoughtless one.
There may be no special, set design to injure another's reputation.  The mere love of gossip, the desire to say or to
hear some new thing, and especially the gratification which
it affords to one's self-esteem and self-complacency to dwell
upon the foibles and weaknesses of others, may be the real
motive and spring of action; and the injury which is to
result to the good name and character of the person spoken
of, may not occur to the speaker at the moment. This is,
however, none the less slander. There may be a difference
in the degree of guilt in the two cases, but both are crimes.
The consequences are much the same in either case. We
cannot excuse ourselves by saying, the mischief was not
intended. A proper regard for duty, and for the rights
of others, would have led us to pause before we uttered the
injurious words, and to look at the consequences of what
we were about to utter. Our forgetfillness and thoughtlessness of consequences by no means firees us from responsibility from those consequences, be they what they may.
Nor is it essential that the thl)ing said should be false, in
order to constitute it a slander. It may be a true thing;
yet, if maliciously spoken, with design to injure, or even
thoughtlessly uttered, without due and sufficient cause
15 
170  DIJTIES PERTAINING TO REPUTATION.
why it should be said, it is none the less slander.  No one
has a moral right to injure his fellow, without cluse, cvill
by publishing what is strictly true of him. Doubtless there
is more guilt ill uttering falsehood maliciously, than in
uttering tr?eth maliciously; more guilt in intentional than
in inconsiderate slander; all these, however, are forms of
slander, —all are crimies.
Perhaps the most common folrm of slander is that where
one seeks to detract firom the good opinion whiclh a fiiend,
or benefictolr, or the communlity, elt(lt:,ii  of a person
whom he dislikes; to aw.aik:n slluslicion or distrust witlh
regard to him,, a,nd so change his relation to the I,atties
concerned, and to society.  In a thlous.nd ways this mischief may be dlone, this object accoInl)lish(el.  With due
secrecy, and injunctions of secrecy upon those to whom the
disclosure is made; with every precaution to avoid detection; what is more, with great al)parenit relucta)ce to make
the statements which are made, and with professions of
fi'iendship for the injured party, may the work be done.
These are the usual subterfuges and pretences of the slanderer. All such disguises are more or less hypocritical, and,
as Paley has well remarked, they are all so many aggravations of the offence, inasmuch as they indicate deliberation
and design.
~ II.- WHAT THE LAW OF REPUTATION FORBIDS.
From the definition already given of slander, as includ,
ing all forms of detraction, the rule itself, of which this is
a violation, becomes evident. The law of reputation forbids us, in general, to say anything, without imperative reasons, that shall detract from the good name and reputation
of another; it requires us, on the other hand, to sustain that
good name and reputation by all due and proper means. 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO REPUTATION. 171
_aking public the Ftautlts of  Others. -More specifically, it forbids us needlessly and without cause to give
publicity to the faults, or even the aggravated offences
of others.  We  may know that which the public does
not know, and which, if it were known, would tend veiry
grieatly to the injury of the individual concerned.  Now,
there may be circumstances which would require us, firom
a regard to the public good, or for other reasons whichl
will be hereafter considered, to disclose the facts which
have come to our knowledge. But, aside from these, we
have no right, thoughtlessly, needlessly, without weighty
and sufficient reasons, to make use of our information to
the discredit and injury of the offending party. What,
ever publicity he may give to his own actions, and
whatever, in the natural course of justice and of divine
providence, they may acquire, is another matter; but the
mere knowledge, on my part, that he has acted dishonl.
estly, is not a sufficient reason why I should speak of it to
his injury, and gives me no right to do so.  " One man,"
says Dr. Hickok, "has no right to be injuring the good
name of another; even by reporting, that which may be
true of him, unless some grave interest of the public may
demand it." The person to whose injury we are tempted
to speak, may be himself deeply conscious of his own
faults, and earnestly making efforts to overcome them.
Or the particular offence that we have in mind may have
been committed in former years, and under circumstances
9f peculiar temptation; it may be something of which he
has long and bitterly repented, and firom which his whole
subsequent life has turned away utterly.   To give publicity to the matter, under such circumstances, would be
to work infinite mischief and causeless ruin.
Judging of the  Xotives of  Others.-On  the same
principle, and by the same law of morality, we are for 
172 DUTIES PERTAINING TO REPUTATION.
bidden to judge of the motives of others, either by assign.
ing to their conduct wrong motives, where right ones may
reasonably be supposed, or by suggesting that the action
proceeds from some other motive than that which is
apparent and professed.   We  have no right to suppose
or presume any such thing.   The motives of men are for
the most part known only to Him who sees the heart.
We do great injustice to the character of others, when,
on such imperfect and insufficient data as we have, and
without due cause, we set aside the professed intent and
design of an action, and attribute it to some unworthy
source. We like not to be ourselves judged in that.
manner, and have no right thus to judge the motives
of others.
Hol(liag Others up to  Ridciciele.-Any deliberate attempt to bring others into contempt, by ridicule and railleiy, and thus to detract firom the esteem in which they
would otherwise be held, is likewise a violation of the rule.
The shafts of ridicule are, of all weapons with which one's
reputation may possibly be assailed, the most fatal and
venomous. They are the most difficult to meet, and for
this reason both the more mischievous and the more cowardly.   On this point the remarks of Dr. Wayland are
forcible and just: "It is but a very imperfect excuse, for
conduct of this sort, to plead that we do not mean any
harm.   What (lo we  mean?   Surely reasonable beings
should be prepared to answer this question.   Were  the
witty calumniator to stand concealed, and hear himself
made the subject of remarks precisely similar to those in
which he indulges respecting others, he would have a
very definite conception of what others mean.   Let him
then carry the lesson home to his own bosom."
Jlisinterpreti?ng Others.- The law of reputation forbids 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO REPUTATION. 173
us likewise to put a wrong construction on what others
say and do,- to interpret their langiagec or conduct as
meaning one thing, while in reality it is susceptible of a
very different interpretation, and then to make use of this
false and forced construction to the injury of the party
concerned. This is a course of procedure at once mischievous and despicable. When intentionally done, it is
dowright dishonesty; when inadvertently, it is still a
wrong and a crime. This is a form of slander to which
the critic and literary reviewer, the disputant, the controversial writer, are too frequently tempted to resort, in
answering an opponent, or pointing out what they may
regard as error. The words and statements of an author
are wrested, whether consciously or inadvertently, from
their true meaning, and he is held up to public odium, on
chlnrges not less false than injurious. Even the records of
theological controversy are not, it is to be feared, wholly
free from this fault.
In what Cases Silence not reqtired.- Here the question may arise, whether, in al] cases, we are bound to
observe silence respecting the fiults or crimes of others.
Does the law of morality, as regards reputation, require us
in all cases to conceal firom the public eye what we may
happen to know that is derogatory to the character of
another?  If not, then what are the exceptions?
I reply, whenever the good of the conmnunity imnperatively requires the exposure of the faults or follies, the
mistakes or crimes of another, then is the law of reputa.
tionI superseded, set aside by a higher claim, and we
aile at liberty to make known what has come to our
observation; but not otherwise.   Thus, for example, a
man may be enjoying a higher reputation as a scholar,
3 man of science or for virtue and general worth, than he
-5i 
174  DUTIES PERTAINING TO REPUTATION.
may seein to me to deserve.  Tll.at gives me no righlit to
(liminishl his reputation, and bring him down to the level
which, in miy opinion, he ought to occupy.  Hlis reputation
is his own acquirement and possession, and he has the
right to enjoy it.  If, however, this involves manifest
injustice to another, theni there is adequate cause for inter.
ference, and for setting the matter right.  So, in like
manner, if I have reason to suppose that any person is
plotting the injury of another, or of the community, I
have no10 right to keep silence, out of regard to his reputation.  Or if a crime has been commnitted, and I know
the authors, I am not at liberty to be silent where the
ends of public justice and the public good require the
disclosure of the guilty.  These ends are of still hilghe
moment than personal reputation, and the law of procedure in all such cases is plain.
~ III. -REASONS FOR OBSERVING THE LAW or REPUTATION
The law which has been stated as binding upon us, in
the matter of speaking to the injury of others, is by no
means a law without a reason.  On the contrary, it is
enforced  by  considerations of the  most  weighty  and
imperative character.
-Baseness of Slcan(er.- One reason why we should not,
without adequate cause, speak evil of any one, is, the base.:ess of so doing. Slander is justly regarded as one of the
basest and meanest of crimes.  Some crimes find their
apology in the strength of the natural appetite which
prompts to their commission.  But no man can plead, I suppose, a natural appetite for slander; and even if he should,
it would not be likely to raise him in our esteem, or to be
taken as an excuse for his crime.  Slander injures another,
without benefit to one's self; destroys and lays wasto 
DUTIES PERTAiNING TO REPUTATION.  17t)
without cause, wantonly, and for the mere sake of mischief.  It is evil inflicted gratuitously, and for the evil's
own sake.  It is a course prompted by envy, or the desire
of revenge.  It has its source in the darkest and most
malignant passions and principles of our fallen nature.
There is nothing noble or magnanimous about it.  It is a
false, dishonorable, cowardly thing. No man can be guilty
of it and retain self-respect, or the respect of others. He
sinks himself in the estimation of all honorable men, and
brands himself with the ignominy which he vainly seeks
to fasten upon his victim.
Efect on) the Community. -It is to be considered, also,
what would be the effect on the community, were men to
indulge freely in the habit of speaking evil one of another,
and exposing one another's faults and follies, without adequate cause.  lMIanifestly such a state of society would
be almost intolerable.   No one is free from faults; and if
every one were at liberty to expose to the public gaze the
imperfections and weaknesses of all with whom he is conversant, scandal must become the order of the day, and
the great staple of conversation. Universal suspicion and
distrust would be awakened; the tenderest and most
sacred relations of life would be involved; and all social
intercourse and organization must speedily come to an
end.  Nothing so weakens the restraints of crime and the
regard for public virtue, as free converse of the failings
and follies of others, especially of those who stand high in
public estimation as persons of worth and character.
Suty of the Citizens ard of the Press. -It is incum
bent, then, on every good citizen, as he values the public
welfare, the order and harmony and virtue of the community, to abstain firom the needless utterance of that
which would tend to derogate from the respect in which 
176  DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.
another is held; and not only to abstain from this himself,
but to discountenance it in others, and brand it withl his
disapprobation and scorn.  Especially is this incumbent on
the public press. It is bad enough to give publicity to the
failings of others in the limited circle of one's private
acquaintance; it is a greater mischief and a greater crime
to publish them to the world. How sad the spectacle,
when the press of a nation debases itself to the low work
of slandering a political opponent or party, or of giving
needless publicity to the failings of men high in authority
and public esteem!
CHAPTER V.
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.
Evidence that Veracity is a Duety.- Among the duties
which we owe to society, is that of speaking the truth in
our varied intercourse with our fellow-men.  That this is
a duty, is evident from the demands of our moral nature,
fr'om the whole structure and fiamework of society, which
in a measure depends on and presupposes this duty, as
well as from the explicit commands of Godcl's word. We
are so constituted as to place confidence in the testimony
of our fellow-men; and our moral nature, our sense of
right and justice, is violated when we find ourselves de
ceived.   We  are also naturally inclined to speak the
truth, ind it is only under strong temptations to the contrary that we are induced to pursue an opposite course.
WhenIever we yield to these inducements, our moral nature is violated; we are conscious of wrong and self-deg 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.  177
radation; we are cast down from our integrity.   This
moral nature, this disposition to credit others, this im
pulse to truthfilness, this loss of self-esteem and consciousniess of wrong when we deviate firom the truth ill
our statements, is ill itself an indication of the will of the
Creator, too plain to be mistaken.   This nature of ours
is his workmanship.
The effects, moreover, which would result if truth weie
to be abandoned in the intercourse of man with man, the
disastrous consequences to society of that general distrust
and want of confidence which would necessarily ensue,
may be taken as evidence of the will of the Deity, and
of the obligation of veracity.
To this have been added the explicit declarations of
Scripture, forbidding, in the plainest and most positive
terms, deceit and falsehood, and assuring us that lyilg
lips are an abomination to the Lord. Into that heavenly
felicity which awaits the righteous, there can in nowise
enter, wNe are told, anything that maketh a lie.
We can hardly be mistaken, then, in regarding veracity
as a duty.
In treating of it, our inquiries may have reference to
truthfulness in ordinary discourse, or as regards the l)romises made between man and man, or in the more solemn
form of the judicial oath.
~ I.- TRUTHFULNESS IN COMMON DISCOURSE.
Where lies the Obligation to this. - That we are under
obligation to speak the truth in the ordinary conversation
and social intercourse of life, is hardly to be questioned.
A question may arise, however, as to wha.t co)?stitutes, or
where lies that obligation. Dr. Paley places it on the
ground of virtual promise. Truth is expected, and con 
17   DUTIES PERTAINING TO Vl,ERACITY.
versation implies a tacit promise to meet that expecta
tionI; otherwise we should not be at the trouble of conversing. "A lie is a breach of promise."
The pernicious consequences which, directly and indi.
rectly, result to society and to the individual from the want
of truthfulness in discourse, may also be regarded as constituting an obligation to veracity.   A  lie destroys the
confidence of man in man, and so strikes at the very
foundations of society. It is pernicious, and wholly so in
its tendency. The business of life would( be at once interrupted, and all social intercourse destroyed, if false
hood, and not truth, were to become the rule and basis
of human discourse.
The individual suffers, no less than society, from any
violation of the law of truth.   The spiritual nature is
degraded, and moral principile weakened, if not destroyed,
by every such violation.  At the s:iine time, the highest
indignity is offered to the moi:.l naturie of (others.  The
attempt at deception and inlmposition wlhichl every false
statement involves, is in itself an insult of the grossest
nature, to whomsoever it is offered.   Every honorable
man so'regards it.
We need, then, inquire no flirther for the ground of
obligation to speak the truth in all our converse with our
fellow-men.
Lies Defined.- The crime against the laws of veracity
in comimon discourse, is known under the general name
of a lie.  But what exactly constitutes a lie?  Are  all
untrue statements lies? Evidently not. A lie is the utterance of an untruth with intention to deceive.   The
deception is the essential element. Now, in very many
cases, where statements are made that are not according
to strict truth, there is no intention to deceive, and no
actual deception.  Of this nature are parables, fictions, 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.  179
dramas, allegories, and all that class of writings, as also
the biurlesque, and other species of wit.   The intention
of the author is simply to amuse, or, at most, to convey
insl'uction, through the medium of the fiction, and the
interest thus awakened; and it is understood, firom the
first, that the course of the story is not an exact narrati-ve
of events that have actually happened, in the precise order
and manner as there described.  The statements alre not
according to strict truth, yet there is no intention to deceive. Tlhey are ill one sense false, yet they are not lies.
Oil the other hand, there are some lies that are not
properily falsehoods.  Some truths, even, are lies.  When
uttered with intention to deceive, they are virtually lies.
A statement may be true literally, and in the exact sense,
and yet not true in the sense in which  the he:trer o)
ireader is likely to understand it; and if I take advan
ta.-e of this purposely to deceive him, although my state.
ment may be strictly true, yet, as I use it, and intend it
to be taken, it is really a lie. Of this nature are very
many of the prevarications, subterfuges, and r' served
meanings, which have been justified by casuists, esp)eciallly
of the Romish faith.
Not of necessity Oral.- It is not essential to a lie, that
it be an oral, or even a written statement. It may be
expressed in sigIns, which are intelligible as a medium of
communication, and which, as in the case of the deaf
mute, may constitute in faict a lan,guage in themselves.
A lie may be acted, as well as spoken. When, in answer
to a question, I reply by means of a look, a movement of
the arm, a turning of the head, a pointing of the finger
that is my statement, my answer; and it is either true or
false. In the latter case it means deception, if it means
anything, and is, therefore, a lie. Nay, more; even silence
nmay be itself a lie,  The simple omission or suppression 
180  DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.
of the truth, may be as real deception, and may as really
be so intended, as the statement of the opposite. If, in
the statement of evidence before a jury, I omit some part
essential to the real merit and aspect of the case, my omission - my silence - is a virtual falsehood, and that with
intent to deceive.  So of the instance mentioned by Dr.
Paley, of the historical writer, who, in his account of the
reign of Charles the First, should suppress any evidence
of that ruler's despotism; he is understood to be rela.ting
the whole truth, and the omission of an important part
of that truth may justly be regarded as a lie.
Whether Tustifable in any Case. - Are lies ever justifiable?  Are we in all cases bound to speak the truth, be
the consequences what they may?  Suppose, for example,
I meet a madman, or a robber, who threatens personal
violence: shall I divert him from his object by telling a
falsehood, and thus save my property, or my life, olr, perhaps, the lives of others?  According to Paley, a filsehood in such a case is not a lie, - that is, is not criminal,
- because no great harm is done. The immediate consequence is, by the supposition, beneficial; and the worst
that can happen is that these men, once deceived, will
not be likely to trust me again. But then, as they are not
likely to come again in my way, this disadvantage, he
maintains, does not outweigh the positive advantage
gained by the falsehood.
It may so happen, however, that some one else shall
meet this madman, or this robber, even if I do not; and
in consequence of my  falsehood, and the distrust thus
awakened, this personi may lose his life. I purchase my
own safety, in such a case, at the expense of the safety
of others. Because my statement has proved false, the 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.  181
statements of another, even when speaking the truth, may
not be believed.
A False Principle.- Besides this, the principle here
assumed is a false one. It makes the obligation to speak
the truth depend on the inconvenience resulting from false
statements. This is by no means the case. If this were
so, there were an end to all morality. If the truth may
be set aside, and falsehood uttered in its place, whenever
it shall seem to be, on the whole, for the advantage of the
speaker so to do,-when there is some end to be gained
by it which to him is of some importance, - the law of veracity is not merely weakened, but essentially destroyed.
If there is no higher obligation to truth, or any other
virtue, than the advantages immediately resulting from
it; and if it is left to the individual, in every case, to decide whether it is, on the whole, more expedient for him
in the present instance to practise virtue or its opposite,
then the whole system of morality rests, it must be confessed, on a very precarious basis.  Under the influence
of passion, of fear, of strong temptation, it can hardly be
doubtffl how, in most cases, men will decide.  The present gain will outweigh the ultimate advantage, and vice
will be preferred to virtue. Men will do evil that good
may come; they will justify their crimes by the plea that
great advantage is to result. This is the principle of the
casuist and the bigot, in all ages, that the end justifies the
means.
But, it may be said, the person to whom we speak has
no right to demand information: are we, in that case,
under obligation to inform him?  I reply: we  may  be
under no obligation, perhaps, to give him information
which he is not entitled to ask; but this does not authorize us to tell him a falsehood, in place of the truth.  We
16
I 
182  DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.
are not obliged to answer his inquiries at all; but, if we
do, we have no right to tell him a lie.
It should be remembered, moreover, that even though
there may be no obligation on our part to the questioner,
we may, nevertheless, owe it to ourselves, to speak the
truth, and that only. He who puts the question is not
the only person to be regarded in the case.  Something
is due to our own sense of honor and self-respect, and
to that unblemished integrity of character, at the loss of
which even life itself were dearly purchased.
Objection. - It may be said that, where life is in dan
ger, the right of self-defence, which has already been conceded, involves the right of deception and falsehood, if
necessary to the preservation of life. If I may justly kill
my assailant, in order to save my own life, why may I
not lie, in order to save it?  Falsehood is surely not a
greater crime than the taking of human life. To this I
reply, that the right of self-protection firom lawless violence does not necessarily imply the right to defend ourselves in all possible ways, and under all circumstances.
There may be methods of defence which are not justifiable, and this may be one of them. It is only in extreme
cases, as when I must either kill or be killed, that the law
of self-defence allows me to take the life of my assailant.
In such a case, by the very supposition, falsehood will not
answer the purpose. But, even if it would, it does not
follow that the right to defend myself or others from law,
less violence, by opposing force to force and weapon to
weapon, involves the right to protect myself or them in
another and a very different manner, viz., by falsehood.
There is a meanness and dishonor about the latter course,
in stooping to which, even to save life itself, I incur a selfdegradation and self-contempt, which, to the high-minded
and honorable spirit, will justly seem one of the greatest 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.  183
calamities. It does not follow, that because I have the
right to protect my person and my life by a manly and
vigorous defence, I therefore have the right to do so by
resorting to a mean and dishonorable artifice. It may be
better to forfeit life itself, than honor and self-respect. It
may be better to take the life of the aggressor, already
forfeited, than to do either.
Treatment of the I)tsane. - The question  may arise,
whether the law of veracity is strictly to be observed in
our treatment of that unfortunate class in whom reason
no longer holds her seat. The practice, if I mistake not,
very generally prevails, of resorting to deception and
direct falsehood in such cases, in order to effect an object
not otherwise readily attained.   Such a course can be
justified only on the ground that the insane person is, by
reason of his condition, an irrational and  irrespontsible
being, and, as such, an exception to all ordinary rules;
and that a regard to his own highest good requires him
to be so treated. In such a case, the law of benevolence
may possibly set aside the law of veracity. How far such
a course is actually wise and expedient, - how far it is
likely to be successful in accomplishing the objects in view,
- whether honesty and veracity are not, even in such
cases, in the long run, the best policy, -is, to say the
least, an open question.
Importance of Truth in  Trijes.- It is of the highest
importance to form a habit of speaking the truth, even in
matters of little moment.   Such  a habit, securely and
firmly fixed, is one of the surest bulwarks against the
encroachments of vice. It is essential to a truly noble
and virtuous character.  Untrutithfiilness in little things,
leads to deception in more impdrtant matters, and on a
larger scale.  "White lies," it has been well said, "always
introduce others of a darker complexion. I have seldom 
184  DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.
known any one who deserted truth in trifles, that could(
be trusted in matters of importance." "There is no vice,"
says Dr. Wayland, "which, more easily than this, stupefies
a man's conscience.   He who tells lies frequently, will
soon become an habitual liar; and an habitual liar will
soon lose the power of distinguishing between the conceptions of his imagination, and the recollections of his
memory. I have known a few persons who seemed to
have arrived at this most deplorable moral condition.
Let every one, therefore, beware of even the most distant
approaches.to this detestable vice."
~ II. VERACITY AS REGARDS PROMISES.
Whence the Obligation. -The  obligation to keep  a
promise, according to some writers, arises from the necessity of such a course to the well-being and even exist
ence of society.   Men act  from  expectations founded
upon the assurances of others; and if no confidence could
be reposed in such assurances, the varied intercourse of
life could not go on, and society would be at an end.
This is doubtless true, and it furnishes a strong and in
itself imperative reason for the fulfillmnent of promises.
In the absence of any other and higher principle, this
would of itself constitute an obligation to such a course.
But it is by no means true, that there is no higher principle applicable to the case. The law of expediency, however weighty, is not the only law, nor is it the ground of
obligation in the present case.  It is not a sufficient
account of the matter. Aside firom all considerations of
this nature, from all results of evil to the community and
to the individual, have I a moral right to awaken expectations which I do not intend to meet, and thus to disappoint and deceive my fellow-men? Is it not a species of 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.   185
fraud, of dishonesty, which is in itself a crime, aside from
its ruinous consequences to society? Does not the law of
veracity, which makes it binding on me to speak the truth
in my ordinary conversation, oblige me also to keep my
promises?
In whctt sense to be i,te2:preted. - How is a promise to
be interpreted?  Shall it be as the promiser himself understands it? But he may intend to deceive. He may so
frame his explanations as intentionally to convey a false
idea to the party receiving the promise,-saying one thing
and meaning another. Is he, in that case, bound only by
his own meaning and intention? A man promises to pay
me a certain sum of money for certain services, really in.
tending to make payment ill some worthless or depreciated
currency.  Is he bound, in that case, only to fulfill his orig
inal intention?  This, of course, cannot be conceded.
Shall we  say, then, that the promise is to be inter
preted as the party to whoin the promise is made understands it?  But here again there is a difficulty; for the
receiver may, on his part, misunderstand the promise, and
the real meaning of the promiser.  In the case supposed,
I may understand the promise of my employer to be that
I shall be paid in gold, while he really means and promises
nothing of the sort. It would be manifestly unfair to hold
the promiser bound to fulfill his promise, not according to
its real meaning, but according to any construction that
the whim or fancy of the other party chose to put upon it.
Obviously the only just rule is to take the words in
their natural and proper signification, as meaning just
what they would naturally be understood to mean by
any one not specially concerned in the matter; in other
words, as he who made the promise supposed that it
would, and intended that it should, be understood.  The
promiser is bound to abide by this interpretation, and to
16* 
186  DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.
meet the expectations which he has thus formed, and
which he intended to form.  If he fails to do this, he is
guilty of dishonesty.
In illustration of this principle, Paley refers to the his
torical incident of the treachery practised upon the garrison of Sebastia, who were promised that, if they would
surrender, no blood shotucld be shed; but who were, on surrendeiring, buried alive;- the promise being kept as to its
letterl but broken in reality.
In what cases not binding. -As a general rule, there
can be no doubt of the obligation to fulfill a promise once
made. And yet there are exceptions to that rule. Not
every promise is binding.  What, then, are these excep tions?
Suppose, for example, I have promised to do what is
in itself unlawfil, -to commit a crime, to lie, to steal, to
commit murder, in any way to violate the laws of society
or the laws of God,- am I under obligation to keep such
a promise? Unquestionably not. There can be no obligation on any man to do wrong. It is a contradiction of
terms to say that a man ought to do what he ought not to
do. In case the unlawfulness of the act contemplated was
known at the time the promise was made, then the promise itself was a guilty one, and the sooner it is broken the
better. The guilt of such promises, it has been well said,
lies not in the breaking, but in the making. In case the
unlawfulness was not known, but the thing promised was,
at the time, supposed to be lawful, this supposed lawftilness was manifestly an implied condition of the promise;
and a failure of the condition, implies a failure of the obligation. The promise is to be taken in its plain and
obvious intent; and if there was 1no intention to do a
wrong act, no promise to do a known wrong, of course 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.  187
there is no obligation in the premises. This was the case
with HIerod, whose promise was to give his daughter whatever she might ask; but who, in making that promise, had
no thought of her asking what she did. In taking the
life of John the Baptist, under such circumstances, that
ruler committed the crime of murder in order to avoid
breaking a promise which, in reality, he never made; and
which, if made, he had not only no obligation but no right
to keep.
In like manner, a promise obtained by any misrepresen
tation or fraud on the part of the person receiving the
pronlise, is not binding, when such fraud or misrepresentation is discovered, inasmuch as the condition on which the
promise was made proves false.  If a beggalr for instance,
obtains my signature for a sum of money to relieve his
apparent distress, and I afterwards discover that he is an
impostor, and his distress counterfeit, my promise, which
was made on the strength of that representation, is no
longer morally binding.
Imj)ossibilities.-Nor can a promise bind any man to
perform what proves to be an impossibility. "We cannot
be under obligation," says Dr. Wayland, "to do what is
plainly out of our power."  If, however, at the time the
promise was made, we ourselves k)new that it was an impossibility to perform the same, we are really guilty of
firaud; since a promise is an implied belief that the thing
promised is possible. Itcre, again, it is not the breaking,
but the making of the promise that is criminal. No one has
a right to promise what he does not believe can be done,
much less what he knows cannot be.  Thus, for example,
the proprietor of a stage, steamboat, or other vehicle, has
no right to promise to convey me to a certain place within
a specified time, if he knows, or has any reason to believe,
that, owing to the state of the roads, or state of the 
188  DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.
weather, it will be impossible to reach the given point
until after the time specified. The builder or contractor
hlas no right to promise that the house which he is erecting shall be ready for occupancy at a given time, when in
all probability it cannot bie completed, as he very well
knows, until some weeks, or even months, after that date.
All such promises are dishonest.
I am well aware that nothing is more common than
promises of just this nature; insomuch that it has come to
be almost proverbial that no dependence is to be placed, in
regard to such matters, upon the word of those who perhaps would scorn to be guilty of falsehood in other things.
It is none the less a falsehood and a fraud, however, because
of frequent occurrence. Nor is it any justification of such
a course, to say that the thing promised was in its nature
impossible of fulfillment.  This we should have thought of
before we promised.  We had no right to promise an un
certainty, much less an impossibility.
Extorted Promnises.-A promise may be extorted by
violence-by an appeal to fear. Placed in imminient peril,
I promise the highwayman or the assassin that, if he will
spare my life, I will not betray him, or give iniiformation
that shall lead to his arrest. Am I bound to keep that
promise?   This is a point upon which moralists have
greatly differed, and which it is not easy to decide. On
the one hand, it may be said, that were such promises in a
few instances broken, confidence would no longer be reposed in them, and whoever should fall into the hands of
the highwayman would be murdered as well as robbed. On
the other hand, justice andl the safety of the public demand
the arrest of the criminal. MIy silence may cost many
lives.  I have no right to purchase my own safety at the
expense of the lives and safety of others. And then, aside 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERAClTY.  189
from this, -the advantage or disadvantage to the community,- am I under obligation to keep a promise forced
from me under such circumstances?  As the obliqgation of
one party always implies a corresponding iight of the other,
I am surely not bound to give what he who extoits the
promise has no right to demand.  Nor has he the right to
demand the fulfillment of a promise which he had in the first
place no right to procure.  But, had he any right, under
the circumstances, to make me promise what I did?  Had
he a right to rny life, a right to put me in peril and in fear,
a right to the violence and threats by which he extorted
the promise ill the first instance?   If not, then what becomes of his right to demand the fulfillment of a promise
thus extorted; and if he has no right to demand it, then,
as far as he is concerned at least, I am under no obligation
to keep it.
Were the circumstances otherwise- had I, by my own
carelessness, or curiosity, or folly, placed myself in the
power of such a person, and then purchased my  life by
promise of secrecy, the case had been different, and the
argument, as above.given, would no longer hold.
Contracts. -A  contract is a mutual promise between
two parties, - one engaging to do one thing, provided
the other will do another thing.  It comes, therefore,
under the same general rule with promises. I am bound
to fulfill a contract, for the same reasons that I am bound
to keep any other promise that I have made.
The same rule which applies to the interpretation of
promises, applies also to contracts.  They are to be taken
according to their plain and obvious signification, as meaning that which they would naturally be understood to
mean by any intelligent and unprej(udiced person.  The
rule given by Paley is to the same effect: "Whatever is 
iO0 DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.
expected by one side, and known to be so expected by
the other, is to be deemed a part or condition of the contract."
The failure of the party, with whom we contract, to fulfill his part of the obligation, releases us firom ours, since
it is the failure of the condition on which the contract was
made, and on which it entirely depends.
A society, or company of men, it hardly need be said,
is under the same obligation to fulfill its contracts, as an
individual; the state, as the citizen. Nations and states,
in their dealings with each other, are under the same laws
and obligations of veracity and honesty in regard to all
their treaties and compacts, as those which bind the conscience of the private citizen.
~ III.- VERACITY IN RESPECT TO OATHS.
I. Siqgnifcance of the Oath.- It is often of the highest
importance to secure the most exact truthfulness of statement-to make sure that what is asserted is not false. To
secure this most effectually is the object of an oath. This
is calling on the Supreme Being, the omniscient and omnipotent ruler of the universe, to witness that what we
say is true, and to deal with us in strict justice if it be not
true. We thus place ourselves under the highest conceivable obligations and motives to truthfulness; since, to make
this solemn appeal to the majesty of Heaven, and then
directly, and in the face of it, to utter that which is false, in
the very ear of Him whom we have called to witness our
truthfulness, would be an act of impiety the most daring and
reckless of which we can well conceive. He who has any
just, or even remote idea of the value of the divine favor,
and the danger of incuring the displeasure of Him who 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.  19J
holds our very breath in the hollow of his hand, will not
for the sake of any present advantage, venture to offer so
deliberate an insult to the Supreme Being.  By imnprecat
ing upon ourselves the divine displeasure and curse if we
speak falsely, we place ourselves under the highest possible
mnotives to truthfulness.  And this is the theory and sig.
nificance of the oath.
Forts)  of -E.ression.-  The usual form of expression
in the Englishl oath is, "So hell) ne Go(,"- in which the
emphatic word is the particle so; that is, may God be
my helper anl( friend, in all things wherein I need his help,
now and hereafter, in life and in death, in time and eternity, only so far as, and on condition that, I now speak the
truth.  To add still further solemnity to the act, the jutror
places his hand on the word of God, or lifts it to heaven in
sign of solemn invocation and appeal. This latter was the
ancient Jewish custom, whence ours is probably derived.
With tlhe Greeks and Romnans it was customary to slay a
victim, onl solemn occasions, when it was desired to give special imiportance to the transaction.  Hence, fiom the strik
ing down of the beast, the expressionferirepactuni, whence
our own phrase, to strike a bargain.
II. Differenit Ap))lications of the Oa(th.- There are two
different kinds, or!, more properly, different applications of
the oath. I may take oath that I will testify truly, or that
I will perform some engagement.  The oath of testimony
places me  uIinder the most solemn obligation to state that
which I know respecting a given matter, without addition,
or suppression, withoutt  exaggerating, or mitigating, or
falsely coloiing auglht.  The oath of engayemen t binds me
to the faithful performance of any duty whichl  may be
assigned me, or the fulfillment of any office of tirust committed to me, or of any engagement which I voluntarily 
192   DUTIES PIERTAINING TO VERACITY.
assume.  Afore frequently, oaths of. this class are either
oaths of office or of trust. As regards the latter, it seems
an obvious propriety that, where interests of great moment
are intrusted to the keeping of successive guardians, in, it
may be, successive generations of men, every precaution
should be taken to secure the fidelity of those thus trusted.
This is the case with corporate bodies, to whom is com mitted the business of executing an instrument, or appro priating a charity according to the designs of the testator
or founder.  Our institutions of learning, and other benevolent and charitable institutions, which depend, for the
most part, on funds given for the purpose, are managed by
boards of trust, the members of which, when they enter
upon their duties, take oath to administer the trust according to the intention of the instrument, and the will
of the donor.
Oath of Office. - The common oath of office is, perhaps, of more questionable propriety.  When the duties
of the office assumed are of such a nature as to require
the added security and solemnity of an oath; when the
office is one of great importance, or of unusual difficulty;
and when much depends on the fidelity and skill with
which its duties are performed,- there can be no doubt as
to the propriety and utility of the oath.  Such is the case
when men are called to the high and important offices of
the state- to the administration of public affairs. Whatever can add to the sense of moral obligation, and quicken
the conscience, should be brought to bear in such a case.
The oath should be imposed, however, only on occasions
of importance.  Its too frequent imposition tends rather
to weaken than to strengthen the sense of obligation, and
the restraints of virtue.  In proportion as it becomes a
familiar and common thing, its sacredness is impaired, its
efficacy destroyed. It comes to be regarded as a mere 
DUTIES PERITAINING TO VERACITY.  193
form, and takes no hold upon thle conscience.  Such a ulse
of it must tend greicatly to obliterate all moral distinctions,
ill nice perceptionis of duty and sense of obligation, firom
the mind.
This effect is very greatly increased by the senseless
iand unmeaning manner in which the oath is, in such cases
veriy generally administered by the official whose duty i)
is to induct into office the new incumbent.  The words
aire hurried over with extreme rapidity, and in the most
careless manner, as if they were the merest form, or as if
whatever meaning they had were something to be ashamed
of, rather than to be carefully pondered.  It were much
better that all such oaths should never be administered.
They are productive of more evil than good.
Even aside firom this irreverent and senseless manner
whichl too firequently accompanies the administration of
the oath of office, why, it may be asked, is it necessary to
make ulse of the solemn sanctions of religion to secure
fidelity in the disclharge of every petty office and employment to which men may be called in the details of public
duty? "Why should one man," it has been well said,
"who is called upon to discharge the duties of a constable,
or of an overseer of common schools, or even of a counsellor or a judge, be placed under the pains and penalties
of perjury, or under peril of his eternal salvation, any more
than his neighbor, who discharges the duties of a merchant, of an instructor of youth, a physician, or a clergyman?"   On this point, the remarks of Dr. Paley, with
reference to the frequency of oaths, are worthy of consideration, as equally applicable to our own country.  "This
obscure and elliptical form, together with the levity and
fi'equency with which it is administered, has brought about
a general inadvertency to the obligation of oaths, which,
botli in a religious and political view, is much to be
17 
194  DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.
lamented; and it merits public consideration, whether
the requiring of oaths on so many fiivolous occasions,
especially in the customs, and in the qualification for petty
offices, has any other effect than to make them cheap in the
minds of the people.  A pound of tea cannot travel regulairly fiom the ship to the consumer, without costing half
a dozen oaths at the least; and the same security for the
due discharge of their office - namely, that of an oath -
is required from a churchl-w:tirden and an archbishop, firom
a petty constable and the Chief Justice of England."
III. -LI(1tit tless of Oaths.- There are certain religions
sects, as the iIoraivians, and the Quakers, which regard the
oath as unlawfil on any occasion, and, on the ground of
these scruples, refuse to swear.  In support of this view
they cite the words of our Sayiotr, in Matthew v. 34, 37:
"I say unto you, swear not at all," "Let your communication be yea, yea, and nay, nay; for whatsoever is more
than these cometh of evil."  Tlhat our Saviour intended by
these words to prohibit the solemn judicial oath, there is
not the least evidence.  On  the contrary, his words evidently refer to the uise of oathls in common conversation;
that is, to profane swearing, and to all irreverent and unauthorized appeals to Heaven in confirmation of our veracity, without judicial form and sanction. The Jews seem
to have distinguiishedcl between swearing by the name of
God, and swearing by other and less sacred objects, as the
heaven, the earth, Jerusalem, the head, etc., -regarding the
latter forms as less sacred and binding than the former one.
Christ forbids all such use of langluage, as irreverent to the
Supreme Being, and his direction therefore is, swear not at
all; that is, not in any of these ways: they are all improper
and profane. That, in so saying, he intended to forbid the 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.  195
judicial oath, there is no evidence, but the highest improb.
ability.
Sanctioned in Scripttre. - No  attentive reader of the
Scriptures can fail to observec the ftct, that the solemn oath
is repeatedly recognized and sanctioned in the  sacred
writings. Our Saviour himself was once put on oath by
the high-priest, and made reply, when "adjured by the
living God," to declare whether he was the Christ, the Son
of God. God repeatedly swears by himself, in the Old
Testament Scriptures.  In order to show  the  inimutability of his counsel, hlie confirmed his own covenant with
the Jews by an oath.  "For when God made promise to
Abraham, because he could swear by no greater, he sware
by himself."  "For men  verily swear by  the  greater;
and an oath for confirmation is to them the end of all
strife.  Wherein God willing more abundantly to show
unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath" (Heb. vi. 13, 16, 17).  "I
have sworn  by myself, the word  is gone  out of my
mouth in righteousness, and shall not return" (Is. xlv.
23).  "The Lord God hath sworn by himself, saithl the
Lord the God of hosts" (Amos vi. 8). "For I have sworn
by myself, saith the Lord, that Bozrah shall becomne a
desolation" (Jer. xlix. 13).
Among the precepts of the law given on Sina.i we find
the following: "Thou shalt fear the Lord thy God, and
serve himrn, and shalt swear by his name" (Deut. vi. 13). The
same is repeated in Deut. x. 20.  The judicial oath is probably referred to in these passages.  Still more explicitly in
the following: "Then shall an oath of the Lord be between
them both, that he hath not put his hand unto his neighbor's goods" (Ex. xxii. 11). Paul, in his epistles, repeatedlly
calls God to witness, in the most solemn manner, for the 
196  DU7TIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.
truth of what he says.  "For God is my witness" (Rom.
i. 9).  "Moreover, I call God for a witness upon  my soul"
(2 Col. i. 23).  From the above examples it is evident
that oaths, solemnn and judicial, are by no  means condemned in the Scriptures, but, on the contrary, sanctioned
both by precept and example.
Necessity of the Oath. - That the frequent and irreverent use of the oath, on trifling occasions, tends to'cvil, has
already been admitted; that its use can be, or need be,
entirely dispensed with in judicial transactions, and on
public occasions of soleinn moment, I am  not re(ady to
admit. The state needs to employ it; nor can the ends of
justice be well secured without it. Reputation, property,
life itself, and all the interests that are dear to man on the
earth, depend on the sanctity of the oath. So long as human nature is what it is, it is absolutely necessary to throw
around the forms of justice, and the offices of high public
trust, the solemnity and sanction of a direct appeal to the
omniscient and omnipotent Ruler of men and things.
Where Religious Beief is wanting.- The state may
have occasion for the testimony or public services of those
who have either no religious belief, or a widely different
one from the commonly received faith; as, for extmple, of
one who believes in Mohammed, or in the deities of the
I)agan world; of one who, as the Jew, believes in God, but
not in Christ; or of one who rejects the doctrine of a
future state, or of future retribution. In such cases, of
what avail is the oath, in its usual form and significance? I
reply: if the faith of the testator in God, and in the retriI)utions of the fiituie, be not wholly wanting, his oath may
be upon and according to his faith, whatever that may be,
whether Jewish, Pagan, or Mohammedan; and, as his 
DUTIES PERTAINING TO VERACITY.  197
religion is more or less practical, and pure, and exerts more
oi less restraint and influence on his life, so his oath will
l)c more or less binding on his conscience, and his testiinony will be more or less worthy of credence, in that pr,poition.  If, however, either the existence of the Supreiiie
Being, or a state of fiuture rewards and punishments, be
not an object of earnest belief to the testator, it is difficult
to see of what validity the oath can any longer be. It has
ost its significance, so far as he is concerned, and his testi.
inony, if taken, must be taken with allowance, and for
what it is worth.
17* 
PART III.
DUTIES TO THE FAMILY.
WE  have as yet considered only those duties  which
man owes to himnself, to society, and to his fellow-meii
in general.  There are other duties, not less important, of a
more specific character.  There are in the world two great
institutions, - both of divine  origin, both  founded in
mIan's moral and social nature, both placing him in new
and peculiar relations, and requiring of him new and peculiar duties,- I mean tihe F(imily and the State. Of the
former I am now to treat.
The duties which belong to this class divide themselves
naturall y into those of the  arritfge relation, and those of
the parental relation; or, the duties of husband and wife,
and those of parent and child.
CHAPTER I.
DUTIES OF THE MARRIAGE RELATION.
The famnily is a distinct and peculiar institution, standing
by itself; a distinct organic community,  complete within
itself;-having its own laws, its own lig,lts and privileges, 
D1)UTIES OF T-HE MARRIAGE RELATION.  1i9)O)
its own interests, its own duties.  The family is, in an iml,oitant sense, thefottclatiot of the state, which is a cortlini,ity or society of families, gathered into one organizations, rather than a casual combination of individuals otherwise isolated.  At the basis of this arrangement stands
the marriage relation, itself an institution of divine origin,
\itile, at the same time, its foundation is in the constitution of our nature.  It is the oirigin of all the domestic
aelations, and of all civil society.  The continuance and
progress of the race firom age to age depends upon it.
_TNcture of this Relation.-  MIarriage is the union for life
(oI one of either sex with one of the other.  It is a mutual
'omnaa,,c and a voluntary one, having for its basis, not mere
personal Tesspect and regard, not merely the convenience
anud interest of the parties, but mutual affection.  Where
this is wanting, with whatever forms the rite may be celebirated, and whatever advantag,es or disadvantages it may
ensure, it is after all but a form, a solemn mockery.
The ground of this relation exists in the very constitution of our nature.  Those natural desires and propensities which relate to the intercourse of the sexes, look
forward to this relation as their end, and are at once regu-.
lated, refined, and chastened by it.  Without  such an
influence, and such an end, these desires would constantly
tend to the degradation of man, and the disorganization
of society.  Under the influence of the marriage relation,
these disturbing forces are curbed and tranquillized, security and confidence are imparted, society is established on
a firm basis. The parties united in this sacred relation -
joined, not in person merely, but in heart -become one in
all the interests and duties, the joys and the solrows of life.
But, while founded in the constitution of our nature, the
relation of which I speak is not the less a divine institu
i 
200  DUTIES OF THE MAPRPIAGE RELATION.
tion.  That nature is itself the wolrk of the divine Creator,
lhaving reference to this end, and teirmilnl.tiIlg in it. Ile who
desi(,ned the constitution of the human mind, and the liiuilan body, and planned all the circumstances of his earthly
condition, designed also that man should not live alone
upon the earth.  Hence the social nature and wants; and
hence marriage, which is the result of that nature, may be
regarded as an institution of divine origin.
But while nature lays the foundation for such an institution, and that in accordance with the design of the
Creator, it is still a matter to be regulated and ratified by
pululic authority.  The parties are not alone concerned.
The public welfare demands that a relation of this kind
should not be formed clandestinely, or without official
authority and due forms of ratification.   The law takes
cognizance of this relation, prescribes the due forms and
conditions, and concerns itself with the due observance of
the same. This it is the proper business of the state to do,
through its appointed legal authorities, in order to the
permanence and security of the rights and interests
involved in the new relation of the parties.
The relation thus formed and authorized is for life.
Only one crime -that of infidelity to the marriage bond
-can rightfully be made the ground of separation.
Such, in brief, is the nature of the marriage relation:
a compact between two persons of different sex, fieely and
voluntarily formed, by the mutual consent and choice of
each, on the ground of affection, -a union of heart and
person and interests, authorized by due forms of law, and
to continue while life continues.
I)ifferent Viewts of Marriage. -The conception of the
nature and rights of the marriage relation, and of the
duties which it imposes, has varied in different ages and 
DUTIES OF TIIE MARRIAGE RELATION. 201
among different nations.   With some, polygamy and con.
cubinage have been tolerated, and divorce has been allowed on frivolous grounds. Still, the idea of complete
and perfect marriage has, with almost all nations, been
tla.t now indicated, - the exclusive union of one man and
one woman for life.
The practice of'polygamy seems to have been more or
less prevalent in the early periods of Jewvish history. Still,
in the beginning it was not so; but the marriage institution, as it carne from the hand of God, was the union of a
single pair, and they two were one flesh. It has been well
remarked by Dr. Hickok, that, "If polygamy was practised
by the patriarchs with God's permission, it still had no
divine sanction; God's legislation has been always against
it, even when, for other reasons, he has not enforced it."
By the Roman laws, polygamy was not allowed.  The
Institutes define marriage as "the union of a man and a
woman, so as to constitute an inseparable, habitual course
of life;" and in the Digest it is spoken of as "partnership
for life - the mutual participation of divine and human
rights."  The law of Justinian expressly forbids having
inore than one wife. "It is not lawful to have two wives
ait the same time." Concubinage was, however, allowed.
So, also, in the Grecian states. The heroes of Homer, it
has been remarked, applear never to have had more than
one spouse, -  aoXos,  while sometimes represented  as
living in concutbinage.  This shows that even in that early
period and rude stage of society, the true idea of inarrinage
was still entertained.
English law Iregar(ds the husband and wife as but one
person,   the legal existence of the woman, during marrinage, being incorporated in that of her husband.  She can
bring no legal claim or suit in her own name alone; nor
can the husband, by legal act or conveyance, grant any 
202  DUTIES OF TiHE MARRIAGE RELATION.
thing to his wife, - she being one and the same with him.
self in the eye of the law.  Even in criminal prosecutions,
lhusband and wife cannot be evidence for or against each
other, on the ground that, according to established maxims
of law, "no one can be a wvitness in his own cause," and
'ino one is bound to accuse himself."   This differs fi'o-ii
Roman law, ill which husband and wife are two distinct
persons, and each may hold property, contract debts, etc.
According to Roman  law, Roman  citizens could only
marry Roman citizens, - union with those of otlheI nations
not being regarded as valid mareriage.  Restrictions of a
similar nature exist, or have existed to some extent, among
otller people, limiting the marriage union to the families
of the same nation or tribe.  It is for the laws of every
state to prescribe the limits witl-hin which malrilge may
be contracted;  and in most, if not all, civilized niations,
there are certain  restrictions of  tlhis sort, as respects
naiarli.age within certain degrees of ki1ndred.
As mnarinage is not merely a civil but also a religious
institution, the state is not alone  concerned in its (duec
observa.nce; hence, in the ceremonies attending its )public
authorization, civil and religious rites are usually  conjoined.  A mere legal  contract does not express its true
idea and full import.*  The sanctions of religion arc combined with the sanctions of law, in its true and proper
solemnization.  The sentiment of duty is addressed, as
well as the sentiment of citizenship.  The custom of performinicg the  marriage ceremony  ill churches, however,
does not seem to have prevailed prior to the thirteenth
century.
Divorce. -Divorce, or the separation of the marriage
union, -was allowable among the Jews, unlder certin regulations, whenever the husband for any reason chose to p)ut
away his wife. Suclh was not the original and true design 
DUTIES OF THE MARRIAGE RELATION. 203
of the marriage relation, which was intended to be permanent, holding the parties in union for life.  It was a
perversion of that design, tolerated, but never sanctioned
by the Divine Law-giver.
There were reasons for this toleration. The cruelty and
hardness of men, the barbarism of the age, rendered
divorce a less evil to both, when affection no longer hel(d
the parties in mutual regard, than would be an inseparable
union, fioni which all love had fled, and in which woman,
as the weLker and more likely to be abused, would suffer
the greatest inconveniences and injuries.
English law does not recognize the right of divorce.
A special act of Parliament is necessary to provide for each
case of the sort as it comes up.
In our own country, the facilities and occasions for
divorce valy in the different states; but in all, it is to be
feared, the tendency is to a separation of the marriage tie
for reasons of too slight a nature.   In proportion  as
div(,rcc becomes easy, the security of the domestic relations is inpl).ired, and woman is degraded from her true
position. The law of God is explicit in this matter; and
so far as state policy departs from this rule, it defeats its
own end, which is, the highest welfare of the body politic,
I),ttties of the Xarriage Relation. - Fidelity is the first
law of the marriage state, -the faithful observance of the
solemn contract. This is broken by whatever is contrary
to the law of chastity, Not merely criminal intercourse
with other persons, but whatever weakens or destroys that
exclusive affection on which the contract is founded, is
really a violation of that contract. The evils resulting firom
infidelity to the marriage vow are among the greatest and
most serious with which society is afflicted. The peace
an(l harmony of the domestic relations are destroyed, 
0i  DUTIES OF THE MARRIAGE RELATION.
families are broken up, the most sacred ties are severed,
discord and misery reign where all should be happiness
and love. Hence, in all ages, and by all laws of Gad and
man, it has been treated as an aggravated and serious
offence. By the Jewish law it was punishable with death.
By the law of nature and of the Scriptures, the husband
is the head of the family,- with him is vested the chief
authority: hence the duty of respect, and, so far as there is
any occasion for it by reason of the conflict of opinion or
diversity of choice, the duty also of obedience, on the l).lrt
of the wife.  This authority, of course, gives the husband
no right to abuse his power by acts of unkindness and
severity, or any harshness of demeanor;'or, on the other
hland, does it derogate in the least from the honor and
dignity of woman. To submit and obey, is not more the
sphere than the highest grace and ornament of the gentler
sex; as sulch, it is explicitly enjoined in the sacred writings
In ruder states of society, and in earlier ages of the world,
as even now wherever barbarism exists, woman has been
but the slave of man. His brute strength has prevailed
over her weakness, and abused her gentleness and uncomplaining, patient endurance of ills and wrongs. The
Roman law allowed the husband to treat the wife with
severity, and even with personal violence.   But where
Christianity comes, it elevates woman from this degraded
position, and makes her the equal companion of the
stronger sex; and, while it still enjoins upon her the duty
of obedience and subjection to the husband, it clothes that
very subjection with a dignity and beauty more attractive
than any outward adorning.
But, while it is the part of the gentler sex to yield, it is
the part of tile stronger to support, protect, and treat with
uiiiform kindness and courtesy, the weaker.  Strength and
authority give the husband no right to tyrannize over the 
DUTIES OF TIlE MARRIAGE RELATION. 205
wife, or manifest his power by acts of'unkindness, or any
want of that respect and affection which are ever her due.
He is to provide for her physical wants, her comfortable
maintenance and support. He is to protect her, so far as
possible, fiom injury and insult. IIe is to be her guardian
and defender. She is to lean upon his strength, and feel
secure, as the vine clings for support to the sturdy oak,
whose rude, strong arms are able to defend it against the
winds and storms.
Nor is the relation of the wife one of entire dependence,
but rather of reciprocal aid. She has her part to bear,
and to perform, of the duties and struggles, the cares and
toils of life.  She is not to hang as a mere useless weight
upon the stronger arm, but rather to stay and strengthen
that arm, and make it firmer and bolder for its work.
The labors of providing for the physical wants and nmaintenance of the household, are to be shared in common; the
duties of the husband lying, for the most part, in labors
without, and those of the wifb in labors performned within
the house.  In these she is to bear her part cheerfully, and
with good courage; and whether ill wealth or in poverty,
in sickness or in health, in comfort or in distress,- whatever the varied lot of life may be, - she is in all to be a
sharer and a helper. If the atrm on whose protection and
strength she relies is disabled and stricken down, she is, so
far as possible, to assume the cares and duties which have
hitherto devolved upon the stronger, -as the faithful vine
still clings to the broken branch,- and hold iup in its
weakness that on which she has leaned for support.
Still another duty devolves on those who sustain to each
other the marriage relation, - that of 2mt?ttual affectios.
Where this is wanting, or where, having once-existed, it is
suffered to die out, the marriage tie becomes irksome, and
that which should lend a charm to life, only adds to its
18 
'206 DUTIES OF TIIE PARENTAL RELATION.
burden. There must be respect, kindness, courtesy, honor,
fidelity, fiom each to each, -these, but not these alone;
there must be something more than these, or the principle
on which the marriage contract is based is wanting, and
the contract itself becomes virtually null.  Where there
is no true affection, marriage is but a form, fi'om which
the soul has fled.  This, then, must in truth be regar(lel
as one of the first and most imperative duties of the marriage state, -to cherish each that pure and true affection
for the other which the sacred bond implies, and which
is essential to the happiness, if not to the continuance of
the relation.  That bond and sacred vow  are in reality
broken, let it ever be remembered, not mnerely by unlawftil intercourse with others, but by any neglect, unkindness, desertion, withdrawal  of mutual  confidence, and
mutual regard. The want of affection is itself a violation
of duty, and where it continues, amounts to a virtual sundering of the marriage tie.
CHAPTER II.
DUTIES OF THE PARENTAL RELATION.
~ I.-DUTIES OF PARENTS.
IT is the duty of the parent to provide for the physical
wants of his children, and also to educate them, in such
a inanner as shall best prepare them for the duties of
life, and the stations which they are to occupy in society,
and best conduce to their happiness, temporal and eternal.
The end in view, in all family nurture and training, is,
directly, the welfare and happiness of the child, both 
DUTIES OF TIlE PARENTAL RELATION. 207
present and future; indirectly, the demands of society
and the state;  ultimately, and as inclusive of all others,
the claims of God.
The family, as we have already seen, is an institution
peculiar and complete within itself- having its own laws,
its own rights and interests, its own end.  Nevertheless, it
does not exist for itself alone. It has its relations to other
objects and other institutions, its duties to perform, its
office to accomplish. Prominent among these duties, and
one chief end for which it exists, is the training and preparation of the children for those duties which they owe to
themselves, to society, and to their 2caker.  WVhatever
tends to promote this, furthers the great design and end
of the family as an institution; whatever interferes with
and prevents this, frustrates that design.
This general object includes several specific ends or
duties, for which the parent is responsible.
1. MAINTENANCE. -The duty of the parent is to support the child during his years of minority, and provide for
all his physical wants.  Infancy and childhood are helpless
and inexperienced, unable to provide for themselves, dependent of necessity on the watchful care and protection
of the parent. Without that care and provision, they
must inevitably perish, unless, indeed, some other takes
the place of the parent.  Parents are the natural guardians and providers for the wants of their children. The
deep and strong affection  which nature has implanted
in the bosom, looks to this end, and was designed( as the
basis and security for the discharge of this important
trust; nor can this trust be devolved upon another, except
in case of death or inability, without positive violation
of duty. 
Iu8 DUTIES OF THE PARENTAL RELATION.
The manner in which this duty shall be performer
must depend upon the circumstances of the family, and
the general position in life which the child may properly
be expected to occupy. The children of the rich and the
poor cannot be alike provided for; the one will have more
and better food and clothing than the other.  The parent
does his duty when he provides for the support of his children according to the best of his ability and jludgment,
and according to his own circumstances. Nor need he
reproach himself, when this is done, because his limited
means have not allowed him to bring up his children in
that affluence which others can command; since the simn.
ple habits of firugality and industry, which the lessons of
honest poverty are most likely to teach, are in themselves
of greater value to the household, than any amount of
wealth, or any degree of refinement.
2. GovERNfrENT.-  The family is a little society, a min.
iature state; and every society, every state, must have its
laws, its government.  The government of the family is
entrusted to the parents, both by the nature of the case
and by divine authority; and the faithfil administration
of this government is a duty which they owe both to the
household, to the state, and to G(od.  For the manner in
which they discharge this duty, they are directly responsible to Him who instituted the family relation, and who
placed in their charge this solemn trust. The end of the
family institution is to train its members for the service of
the state, and the service of God, in whatever stations
they may hereafter be called to fill; and both the state,
or society in its organized capacity, and God, have a
claim upon the parents for the faithful performance of this
important trust.
"The family," it has been well said, "is but a nursery 
DUTIES OF THE PARENTRAL RELATION. 209
for higher and broader spheres of action. In it are to be
planted the seeds, and there are to be nurtured the germs,
which are to have their full development, and bear their
fruit, in future years, and in other worlds."
It is not merely, then, the happiness and welfare of the
household, as such, while gathered under one roof, - although this is in itself a most important end to be secured,
- but it is also the welfare and highest usefulness and
happiness of its members, when they shall be no longer
under the sheltering roof that covered them in the happy
days of childhood, but shall have their own part to act,
and their own, it may be, arduous and trying duties to
perform in the busy, toiling world,- it is this higher and
ultimate end that is to be reached, if at all, by means of
family government. Where this is duly administered, the
household is trained to habits of order and obedience;
the child grows up under a system in which he learns the
cardinal virtue of submission to authority, and is thus
fitted to become a useful member of society. Where, on
the contrary, parental government is not enforced, the
lessons of obedience are not learned, and the child goes
forth into society, unused to the wholesome restraints of
law, untaught to submit to the will and authority of those
whose right it is to govern, unfitted for the responsible
duties of the citizen; in many respects, a useless, if not
positively dangerous member of the community.
To whom entrusted. - The duty of maintaining authority, and administering the government of the household,
is, by the law of nature, and the relation of the parties,
entrusted to the parents. It is their province and right
to govern - the province and duty of the child to obey.
This is a divine arrangement, the foundation of which lies
in the constitution of our nature.  It is not a merely
18* 
210 DUTIES OF THE PARENTAL RELATION.
arbitrary and conventional arrangement, but the design
and law of the Creator.  No duty is more clearly enjoined
in the Scriptures, and none entails a severelr penalty on
those who neglect and violate it.
The parent is not, however, to use this authority as
abusing it. He is not to govern, merely for the sake and
from the love of governing, in an arbitrary and unreasonable manner.  He is ever to keep in mind the end of discipline, as already pointed out; that is, the highest welfare
and happiness of all the members of the household. As
a satfeguard against abuse, Providence has wisely thrown
around this delegated authority the restraints of parental
affection. The power to govern is lodged in safe hands;
the heart of the parent pleads for mercy, while his sense
of justice demands the punishment of the offender.
As the parties united in marriage are one, the authority
of the parents is a joint and concurrent authority; and
inasmuch as the end of all family discipline is one of common interest to both the parents, there can, ordinarily, be
little danger of any conflict of views or interests in its
administration.   Should such difference arise, as there
must be some ultimate appeal, the supreme authority rests,
by common consent, by the nature of the case, and by the
laws of the land, with the fither, as the rightful head of
the family, and source of ultimate authority.
3. EDUCATION.- The duty of the parent is not entirely
discharged when provision has been made for the physical
wants of the household, and for its due government. The
child is not only to be fed, and clothed, and governed, but
suitably ecltcatee(; and this education must have reference
to the whole development and training, both physical and
noral, as well as intellectual, 
DUTIES OF THE PARlNTAl, RELATION. 211
I'hysical Cultur'e.-  It must have reference to the
physical traiJ)g.  A  good physical constitution is one
of the greatest earthly advaintages; and this, so far as it
depends on any care and skill of treatment after birth,
is to be secured by every means in the power of the parent.  Parental ignorance and negligence have, doubtless,
much to do with the feeble health, the broken constitution, the life of suffering, and the premature decay and
death, of many a household. The physic al culture, the
health and strength of the child, is the first and most
important object to be attained;  and  due attention to
this object is the first and most imperative of parental
duties.   Care must be taken to regulate the food, the
dress, the exercise, the hours of rest, the entire habits of
life, as affecting the physical constitution; to avoid all
such indulgtl,ence on the one hand, and all suchl hardship
and exposure on the other, as shall endanger the health,
or injure the constitution of the child. For all this the
parent is responsible; and if, by carelessness, neglect, or
want of skill, he fails in the perforlmance of his duty, not
himself only, not the child only, nor the family only, but
other and wider interests receive an injury; society suiffers, the state is a loser, and claims still higher than these
are forgotten.  As regards both the service of the state,
and the service of God, the true end of family culture
looks, first of all, at the physical health and vigor,-aims to
secure that, - and fitils of its grand and ulterior designs
very much in proportion as it fails in that. If that is
overlooked; if, by neglect, or mistaken indulgence, habits
unf ivorable to health and manly development are formed;
if, as sometimnes happens, the selfishness and avarice of
the parent lead him to expose his child to an amount of
toil and hardship unsuited to its tender yeair's, - then,
whatever suffering may ensue, whatever loss to the child 
212  DUTIES OF THE PARENTAL RELATION.
in subsequent years of life, whatever to society, and to the
cause of God, the responsibility and the guilt must rest
with fearful weight upon that negligent, that indulgent,
or that selfish parent.
Intellect'al Ctlttre.-  The intellect, also, is to receive
its education. The germs of wl)latever power and great ness it may afterward.qttain, lie in the mind at the outset; they are to be developed and nurtured by careful
and skilful training.   The intellect comes to matulrity,
and possession of its own proper strength, only by culture and discilliae.  Left in ignorance, its faculties imlperfectly unfolded and developed, its condition will inevitably be that of weakness and imbecility, as compared
with what it might be, and was designed to be.
A thorough education, if not invaluable, is, at least, of
higher value to the child than any amount of treasure,
or any position in society which mere wealth or the accideint of birth can command. It is itself the highest fortune, the richest treasure.  He who has it cannot well be
poor; he who is destitute of it, whatever else he may
have, cannot be truly rich. The parent has no right to
send his child out into the world uneducated, and, in consequence, unfitted for the highest duties of life.
The process of education, wisely and well conducted,
will always have regard to two things, - the habits and
mental peculiarities of the child, and also the condition
and station in life for which it is to be fitted.  If either
of these is overlooked, the great end of education- that
is, the highest happiness and usefulness of the child in
future life- will not be attained.
The care of this mental  training, at first devolving
chiefly on the parents, may, as the child progresses, be in
part, but gever wholly, transferred to other teachers; never
to triansferred as that the parent shall be 1no longer respon. 
DUTIES OF THE PARENTAL RELATION. 213
sible for the manner in which the process is conducted,
and for its ultimate success or failure.   No  pressure of
other duties can atone for any neglect of this; nor can
any fidelity and skill of the teacher compensate for the
want of that time and attention which the parent should
still bestow on the intellectual culture and progress of
the child, and which are indispensable to the most sue
cessful results.
2oral CTGtr-e.   Nor is the moral education of the
(child to be overlooked.   The manners, the disposition,
the heart, the religious belief, are nmatters requiring carefil attention and culture.  If the mind is to be edufcated,
not less the heart.  Eternal destinies, and not merely the
present welfare and happiness of the child, depend on the
manner in which this part of his education is conducted.
Those destinies of the future are in an important sense
entrusted to the decision of the parent. He is to educate
and train the child, not merely for honor and usefulness
on earth, but for immortality and eternal life; not merely
to be a valuable member of society, but a citizen of the
heavenly kingdom, and a partaker of the heavenly felicity.
This duty neglected, all is neglected; this lost, all is lost.
The moral education includes not merely the culture of
religious feeling toward God, as the direct object of adoration and love, but of all morally right feeling and action
-of all that is pure, and lovely, and of good report. It
includes the checking and restraining of all the evil desires
and propensities of the child's nature; the development
and careful fostering of all generous, pure, noble sentiments and principles of action;  the vigilant guarding
against all evil and seductive influences to which the inexperience of childhood and youth may be exposed, and
iy which it may so easily be led astray.  It includes precept; it includes example, without which precept will 
214 DUTIES OF THE PARENTAL RELATION.
avail nothing.   It includes the thousand influences of a
well-ordered  religious home, constantly, and to himself
perhaps unconsciously, surrounding the child, and as by
silken threads leading him in the way that he should go.
Hflappy the child that is thus led; happy the home to
which that child belongs, and ill which such influences
dwell.
~ II. - DUTIES OF CHILDREN.
The duties of the parent and of the child are, for the
most part, reciprocal - the obligation resting upon the
ole necessarily implying a corresponding obligation on
the part of the other. The obligation of the parent to
govern, implies the duty of the child to obey; the obligation of the parent to educate, involves the duty of the
child to yield to and be guided by this care and culture.
There are also duties arising firom  the relation in  lwhich
the parties stand. The superior wisdom iand intelligence
of the parent, no less than his authority, demand respect
and reverence firom the child. The care and love which
have watched over the helplessness of childhood, and
provided for its wants, and sacrificed much for its good,
demand in return filiall gratitude and affection. These,
then, as determined by the nature of the case, are the
principal duties of the child toward the parent, viz., obedience, docility, reverence, filial affections.
1. OBEDIENCE. - It is the duty of the child to yield iiireserved and unquestioned obedience to the authority and(
commands of the parent; and this obedienlce nmust be iirrespective of the why and whe,efo'e of the command, of
the wisdomi and necessity of the course priesclril)ed; it
raust be rendered a,s obedience to authority, and to the 
DUTIES OF TIIE PARENTAL RELATION.  215
will of the parent, becaese it is his will.  In no10 other way
can the end of famnily government be atta.ined, the peace
and order of the lhousehold be promoted, the welfare of
the child secured.
The duty of obedience is manifest not only firom the
nature of the case, and froli the end of fanlily g,overnment,
but fiom  tile wvord of God.  No duty is more explicitly
and emphatically enjoined in the Scriptures  than this:
"Children, obey your parents in the Lord; for this is right"
(Eph. vi. 1).  And again, "Children, obey your parents in
all tlhings; for tl-his is well-pleasing unto the Lord" (Col.
iii. 20).  To disobey the commands of the parent, is, then,
to be guilty of a double crime: it is to violate at once
the law of thsohousehold, and the law of God.
Limiit of Atithority. -But here an important question
arises, respecting the limits of parent'l authority.  Are
there any limits?  Is the child under obligation to yield
obedience to any and cill commands of the parent, wthatever they necty be?  Suppose the parent order him to do
thlat which is manifestly wrong, as, to break thle Sabbath,
or to steal, or to lie, or in any manner to break the laws
of the state, or the laws of God; is he then to obey?
I reply, by no means. The parent has no righyt to give
such commands, and, therefore, they are not binding on
the conscience of the chlild. Whenever the child is ordered
to do that which hle knows and futlly believes to be wrong,
he is under no obligatioll to obey; nay, lie has no rigiht to
obey.  When the law of tl:he parent comes into couflict
mnanifestly and directly with the law of the state, or with
thle law of God, these, which,ire higher laws, must be
obeyed.  Tlhe autlhoiity of tlhe state is above that of the
l)parent; and the authority of the Supreme and( Alligi,llty
Ruler is above both.  Thle clhild must (lo igi,llt,  ld suttfler
the consequences; the responsibility rests with the parent. 
216 DUTIES OF TIlIE PAP.RENTAL RELATION.
When there is any doubt as to the real character of the act
required, -any uncertainty whether it is, in fact, a wrong
act, and in conflict with the divine connmand(s,-  it seems
to me that the authority of the parent shoul(l in all such
cases be held as decisive, until at least clearer light can be
obtained as to the path of dluty.  Under ordinary circumstances, the parent, from his superior intelligence, and
greater experience, is certainly more likely to know what
is right and proper than the child; hence, in matters of
doubtful character, it is safer to follow the decisions of the
parent, even at the risk of doing wrong, than to incur the
at least equal risk of doing wrong by disobedience.
2. DOCILITY.- AS the duty of the parent is to teach, to
educate, so the duty of the child is to learn.  It is for him
to yiel(l, with docile spirit, to the culture and training
which the parent sees fit to adopt.  In physical nature, and
mental discipline; in the education of the inanners and the
lieart; in all that pertains to the culture, in its highest and
most comprehensive sense, of body, mind, and soul, - the
child is to hold himself ready, within those limits already
specified, to be instructed, inoulde(l, tr-ined, by parental
wisdom and care. In fault of this, all efforts of instruction
will be unavailing, and the great end of faimily nurture andl
discipline will be unattained.  A stubborn and unyielding
spirit, that sets itself in opposition to the wisdom and the
counsels of the parent, and refuses to be guided thereby,
is in itself a sin most deserving of rebuke, and which incurs, wherever found, the special d(lispleasuire of God.  Very
marked is the condemnation bestowed upon this sin in the
Scriptures.  Under the Jewvish lawe, it was even 1iunishable
w-ithl death.  "If a man have a stubborn  and rebellious
son, which will not obey the voice of his father, or the
voice of his mother, and that, when they have chastened 
DUTIES OF THE PARENTAL RELATION. 217
hiin, will not hearken to them: then shall his father and
his mother lay hold on hiiii, and bring himr out unto the
elders of his city, and unto the gate of his place; and they
shall say unto the elders of his city, this our son is stutbborn and rebellious, he will not obey our voice; he is a
glutton and a drunkard. And all the men of his city shall
stone him with stones that he die; so shalt thou put evil
away firom among you, and all Israel shall hear and fear"
(Deut. xxi. 18-21).
Very full and explicit are the precepts which inculcate
the duty of cherishing the opposite spirit. "My son, keep
the instr-ction of thy father, and forsake not the law of
thy mother. They shall be an ornament of grace unto thy
head, and chains about thy neck" (Prov. i. 8, 9). "Keep
thy father's commandments, and forsake not the law of
thy mother" (Prov. vi. 20).  "A fool despiseth his father's
iinstructions" (Prov. xv. 5).  "A  wise son heareth his
flther's instructions, but a scorner heareth not rebuke"
(Provr. xiii. 1)..
3. REVERENCE. - It is the duty of the child to treat his
parents with that deference and respect that belong to
those who are his superiors in age and wisdom, as well as
in authority. Nothing is more unbecoming in a child
than any want of respect toward his superiors, and especially toward his parents. They sustain to him a relation
which peculiarly demands of him this deferential regard.
They are the authors of his life. To themn he is indebted
for the care and attention which have watched over him
from infancy, provided for his wants, directed his education. To them he is rightfully subject by the laws of God
and man; and to those sustaining to him this relation, and
exercising this authority, he is bound, by the laws of nature
19 
218  DUTIES OF THE PARENTAL RELATIOH
and reason, to yield a respect and reverence which are idue
to no one else on the earth.
Nor is this claim abrogated by any rank or attainments
on the part of the child, or by any deficiency of intellectual,
social, or even moral worth andcl rank, oni the part of thle
parent.  These circumstances alter not thec relation of the
two parties. The child,,as he growvs to maturity, may come
to be wiser, wealthier, more distingllisledl, more virtuous
even, than those who gave him birthl, aind brotught him
up fiom  infaicy to youth and malll.lo()(1.  Hle is not, on
these accounts, excused firom paying to them, so long as lic
lives, and( they live, that respect and( reverence which ai(
still their (due, and( which evely g,enerous iand manly spirit
will esteem it a delight and an honor to shovw.
The end of the fimlily institution, so fair as the child is
concerned, is to fit him for the service of the state, and
the service of his God; to be an honorable and useful
member of society, and a candidate for immortal blesse(dness.  In no way is this end more surely defeated, than by
the want of due respect toward the parents; in no way
more directly promoted, than by the carefuil observance of
this duty.  He who has not learned, or who has scorned
to pay due respect and reverence to his parents, will not
be likely to bow with submission and reverence before the
majesty of the law. He who is wanting in deference to his
earthly superiors and protectors, will not bc likely to yield
the homage of the heart to his heavenly Father, or to
humble himself, in adoration and lowliness of mind, before
the Majesty of heaven and earth.  He is poorly fitted for
the duties of life, for the service of the state, and the service of his God, who knows not how to honor his parents
Nothing is more graceful and fitting, nothing more honorable and ennobling to the character, than the exercise
of this virtue; nothing, on the other hand, more unseemly, 
DUTIES OF TIlE PARENTAL RELATION.  219
and dishonorable, than the opposite vice. The blessing of
God attends the one; his frown and curse, the other.
"Honor thy father and thy mother - which is the first
(onmmnandment with promise -that it may be well with
thee, and thou niayest live long on the earth" (Eph. vi. 2,
referring to Ex. xx. 12).  "Cursed be he that setteth light
by his father or his mother; and all the people shall say,
Amen" (Deut. xxvii. 16).  And yet again: "The eye that
mnocketh at his father, and despisetli to obey his mother,
the ravens of the valley shall pluck it out, and the young
eagles shall eat it" (Prov. xxx. 17).
4. FILIAL AFFECTION  AND GRATITUDE. -The  duties
which have already been named are incomplete without this.
Those offices are to be performed not merely as duties, and
because they are required by the laws and customs of society, by self-respect, and by the divine command, but from
a higher principle than the single sense of duty,- firom
love, the pure affection and deep gratitude of the heart.
The relation in which our parents stand to us, entitles
them to our sincere affection and gratitude. To no human
beings are we so much indebted as to them. They have
given us being; they have provided for our physical
wants; have fed and clothed us; have watched our steps
by day, and our slumbers by night; have denied themselves,
that they might make better provision for us; have educated us in whatever of useful learning and of good manners we have acquired; have done what they could-it is
to be hoped -to train us for usefulness and happiness
here and hereafter. As we grow up, we may possibly perceive faults of character in them,- faults, perhaps, in their
mode of educating and governing us; but no such defects,
whether real or imagined, can ever discharge the obligation
on our part of true and earnest gratitude and love. 
220  DUTIES OF THE PARENTAL RELATION.
The character that is wanting in this, is wanting in all
that is manly and iioblc.  The heart that lacks this emotion, is essentially a mean and selfish heart.
Nor is this duty one that ceases to be required of us as
we come ourselves to manhood.  Time, in its never-ceasing
progress, reverses the order in which life began: the child
becomes a parent, and the parent by-and-by becomes
again a child.  The arms that held us in infiancy, require
now the strength of our more robust and vigorous forms;
the hands that toiled and the feet that moved so readily
for all our wants, must now depend on us for support. By
every little act of kindness and attention, by all the sweet
and soothing ministry of love, it is for us to discharge that
debt. Happy for us, if, over the grave of a parent, we
never have occasion to drop a tealr of regret that we were
in any measure negligent of this sacred duty. 
PART IV.
THE STATE.
CHAPTER I.
NATURE AND FOUNDATION OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
IT has already been remarked that there exist in the
world two great and distinct institutions,- thie Family
and the Stctte,- having each its own organization, its own
laws, its own object, its own proper duties. Of these, the
former has already occupied our attention, and we approach
now the consideration of the latter.
The State what.- In order to clearness, we must ascertain precisely what is meant by the state.  I understand by the state, a community organized under one form
or system of government, and dwelling together, under
that government, in one and the same territory. Those
thus associated for purposes of government, compose the
state.
The word is frequently employed in a somewhat differ-.
ent sense firom that now given,- sometimes, to denote the
idea of civil government in the abstract, without reference
to the aggregate of individuals tlhat compose the state;
sometimes, also, to denote the pow-er that exercises autlihoiity iind administers law in tlhe community thus organized
19*
DUTIES TO 
NATURE AND FOUNDATION
as when Louis Fourteenth of Franuce (decluired, "I am the
state."
The true idea, however, of the st.:.tc, I take to be that
already given.  When we speak of the family, or of the
state, as institutions, we do indeed use tlhose terms abstractly; but when we come to define mnore flully our
meaning, we say, the family is a little community, consisting of those related by ties of mairriage and consanguinity,
dwelling under one roof, and holding, property in coinmon; and, in like mannelr, we say, the state is a lager
community, organized under one form of government, and
dwelling together in the same country or territory.
Not every Conmmnzity a St(te. - It is not every and
any community, or company of men, that constitutes a
state, even though they may inhabit the same teiriitory.
They must be an organized community, and tlhat foi the
lpurpose of government -a united whole, bound togetlhei
by one and the same system of civil administration.  A
hlerd of wild beasts roanling together over the western
prailies is a community; a horde of savages, scarcely less
wild and lawless, may dwell together without the forms
of civilized society; but neitl-her of these communities is a
state. Those who came over in the pilgrimn bark, the
MIay-Flower, were a community, united in one and the
same great enterprise, yet only a collection of separate
families and individuals, and nothing more, until, in the
cabin of that little vessel, there was drawn up the inistrument that constituted them an organized community, and
l)rescribed the form of their filture government; that instriument drawn and signed, they became firom that moment
a state.
It will be to our purpose, in the further discussion of the
subject prol)osed( for consideration in the piescit clhapter,
')22 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMrIENT.
to inquire as to the origiya and object of civil government
-hoWn suchl an institution ever came to be,'and for what
ends designed; also, as to thie fout.,datiot on which it
rests -  whence comes its authority.  These topics will be
discussed in the following sections.
~ I.- ORIGIN AND OBJECT OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
ORIGIN OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.-  If we inquire for the
origin of this institution,- the mnanner in wiichli such a thing
as the state, or civil government, camne to be,-we must go
back, doubtless, to a very early period of civilization- to
the flist rude beginnings of human history.  The germ of
civil authority lies, if I mistake not, in the ftnily; the
members of which, united by closest ties of sympathy and
common interest, are subject to the parental authority and
control. This is the first form of obedience, and the first
kind of government.  "A family," it is well said by Paley,
"contains the rudiments of an empire.  The authority of
one over many, and the disposition to govern and to be
governedl, are in this way incidental to the very nature,
and coeval, no doubt, with the existence of the human
species."
It is easy to see how, from this simple beginning, the
lprinciple of civil government, taking its rise, may have extenldedl, till, as now, it embraces nations and centuries in
its sweep. The respect and homage due to the wisdom
and authority of the parent, do not cease when the children
app)roach the maturity of riper years. Around the tent of
the father gather, in process of time, the tents of the children; the government of the family becomes gradually the
government of many families, all united by ties of consanguinity and common origin, all owing and owning allegiance to a common ancestor. The general direction and
223 
NATURE AND FOUNDATION
control of the little community, thus enlarged by suces
sive generations, would, by common consent, be vested ir
the hands of that aged and honored ancestor, the patriarc,
of the flock, the chief of the tribe. And thus we have the
second step in the formation of civil government.
The rapid increase of such a community would enlarge
the boundaries of the original dominion, until, in course of
time, the chief or patriarch of the tribe becomes the rulei
of the nation. Large communities and empires would
grow out of small ones, not only by the laws of natural
growth, and increase of population, but by accessions of
smaller and weaker tribes forming alliance with the
stronger, for purposes of mutual advantage.
The patriarch of the tribe, or chief of the clan, would be
likely to gather about him many followers, in the capacity
of servants and retainers, dependent on his bounty, and
obedient to his command. Possessions, also, of land, cattle, jewels, and other treasures, would accumulate in his
keeping. To the aristocracy and influence of birth there
would in this way be added the authority which wealth
bestows. In process of time, as the wealth of the tribe increased, and its numbers augmented, the temptation would
be felt to employ these resources in the subjugation of
neighboring and weaker tribes. The chief who should
thus employ his personal wealth and followers to enlarge
the boundaries, and extend the power of his tribe, would
add not only to the authority of his clan, but to his own
power as ruler; and so to the aristocracy of birth and
of wealth would be added that of military prowess.  This
latter, ill process of time, and of human affairs, might come
to be of more consequence than either of the former as an
element of sovereignty.
It is easy to see how, in the natural course of things,
224 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
these causes, combined, or even singly, would lead to the
formation of great and powerful empires, from such small
beginnings as we have indicated. And it is easy also to see
how, starting with the idea of paternal government as its
source and germ,- that is, of a power lodged in the hands
of one, to be administered at his discretion, - the form of
civil government should have been, in theory and in fact,
essentially the power and authority of one over the whole;
that is, monarchical.
Whatever theory we adopt as the foundation of civil
government,-whether we regard it as of direct divine authority, or as foiunded in social compact, or in the nature
of man,- there can be little doubt that, as a matter of history, its origin and progress have been essentially what I
have now indicated.
OBJECT OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.-Viewing civil government as an existing institution, we may naturally ask what
is the end or object which it proposes to accomplish; what
is the use, the advantage, the necessity for anything of the
sort; why should not every man be his own ruler and
sovereign? 
The sovereignty of the individual, I reply, would be
inconsistent with the rights and fireedom of the whole.
Every member of the community has an interest in the
conduct of every other member.   Every man is a conmposite element of the whole, and is bound to consult tIhe
interests and wishes of the whole. If he were to have his
own way, and consult only his own pleasure in everything,
his choice would often interfere with that of others, and
thus would  result a conflict of choices; and not only
would injustice thus be d(lone, often, to the weaker of two
parties, but the general peace and order of the whole
225 
NATURE AND FOUNDATION
would be disturbed.  "The fieedom of the individual,"
it has been well said, "is the bondage of the community."
Objectioi. - But will not the same thing occur if gov ernment exists? it may be asked.   Will that insure to
every man his choice? Will not government itself inter fere with the choice of the individual, and restrain his
freedom?   So far as that freedom interferes with  the
general fieedom and the general order, I reply, it will
doubtless be restrained under any system of wise and
efficient  government;  and so far as this, it nleec(s to be
restrained.  In the nature of things, not every man call
have his choice. The nearest approximation to this is,
tlhat the choice of the greatest numnber shall prevail; in
other words, that the will of the majority shall govern.
In proportion as any government carries out the will of
tlhe majority, and legislates for the good of thle whole, it
accompl)lishes the great end of all civil governiiient; and lii
so fir as it loses sight of this, or fails of this, it fails of
reachling that end.
Suppose, now, that, under existing government, an individual finds himself ill-suited,-his choices interfered
with, his wishes disregarded, his rights taken from him,what redress, it may be asked, remains foi such a one?
I reply: there will at least remain one resource, after all
others have been tried in vain.  If he finds it impossible
to obtain justice, and to enjoy his rights in the community
where lie is, let him peaceably withdraw from it, and join
some other which he likes better; or, if none such can be
found, it is in his power to cut himself off entirely firom
his fellow-men, and live in a desert or a cave.  It may be
a hardslhip to (lo this; but it were betteri that a few should
suffer hardship and loss, than that the many slhould be
exposed to the dangers of lawlessness and anarchy.
226 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
Ends to be secured. - There are two leading objects
ever to be kept in view and secured by civil government
- public order and public freedom; - the formner for the
sake of the latter, and the latter in the greatest degree
that is compatible with the former.  These ends will be
most effectually secured in connection with the highest
civilization and most rapid progress of the state. What
ever promotes the one, promotes also the other.  While,
therefore, the state may not propose to itself, directly, as
an end, the moral and religious culture and character of
its citizens, it may, and must, aim to secure this as a nmeans,
and a necessary means, to the end which it legitimately
pursues, viz., the public order and fireedom. Virtue and
religion are indispensable to the highest civilization and
elevation of the people, and so to the public welfare, and
cannot therefore be overlooked by any wise and intelligent
government.
These not the only Objects of Civil Government. — I
have spoken of order and freedonm as leading objects to be
secured by civil government; I would not affirm that they
are the only objects for which government exists.  It is
possible, certainly, to conceive of a state of society in which
every man should be upright and honest; in which the
most perfect order should be realized; in which there
should be, therefore, no crimes to punish, no lawlessness to
rebuke, no irregularity or disorder to provide against.  In
such a community, as there would be the most perfect
order, so also there would be the highlest possible degree
of public freedom; consequently, there would be no need
of government for these ends. If these were the only
objects for which civil government exists, then there would
be no need of government at all.
Yet, even in such a commiunity, there would still be
227 
NATURE AND FOUNDATION
something for government to do.  Its occasion and its
proper functions would not wholly cease.   There are
certain matters of public utility and convenience - as, for
example, the coinling of money, the making of roads, the
disposal of property left without heirs, the regulation of
commerce and of intercourse with other countries- which
could not well be arranged without the existence of some
form of government. In such matters, it would be necessary that some persons should be authorized to act in
behalf of the whole; and such authority would constitute,
in fact, a government.
~ II.- FOUNDATION OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
Having considered, in the preceding section, the origin
and object of civil government, we are prepared now to
inquire as to itsfootndcation.  On what does this institution
rest as its basis and support?  Whence does it derive its
authority?  How  comes government, in the person of
magistrate, legislator, judge, and in' the form of law, written or unwritten, to have power over me, to restrain and
govern my conduct, - a power extending to my person,
my property, and even my life? What right has it to do
this, and whence does it obtain this right? Suppose I
should deny this right, and refuse this control-what then?
Theory of DI)ivine Right. -There have been various
theories respecting this matter.  Accoiding to some, civil
government is founded in the will of God: it rests on
the basis of a divine right.  This theory supposes that
civil government is an ordinance of God; that as marriage
and the family relation were of direct divine appointrient, so likewise the state; and that as we had no agency
in instituting, so we have no choice in submitting to either
228 
OF- CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
of these arrangements, and no right to alter or dispense
with either, but must take both as established facts, - part
of the scheme of Providence and of the divine order of
things, to which it is the duty of all men to conform.
We are under government, and we must obey it, for the
same reason that it is our duty to obey God in anything
else that he may prescribe for us; and this obedience must
be without hesitation or question.
This view derives support from the fact that civil government origi)zates, as we have seen, from the family institution, -having its root there, and progressing, by slow
and natural degrees, to its full and mature development.
Now, unquestionably, the family is an institution of divine
appointment, - a fact which exists by special arrangement
and design of Providence.  The paternal government is
one under which we find ourselves on coming into the
world, and which, whether we will or not, we are obliged
to obey. And as, out of this existing fact, this authority
independent of our will, civil government takes its rise,
and by natural stages grows to be what it is, the inference
seems plausible, that this also, like that from which it
proceeds, is of special divine authority.
Paley's View. -A modified form of this theory was
advanced by Dr. Paley, who bases the obligation to obey
civil government on the will of God as collected from
expecie)cy.  This view differs from the preceding, chiefly
in that it assigns a reason for the will of God being what
it is, viz., the expediency or advantage of such an institution to human welfare and happiness; whereas the former,
somewhat more arbitrarily, refers the whole matter to the
divine will, and leaves it there, without explanation or
reason.
The argument of Paley is summed up, by himself, in
the following propositions: "It is the will of God that
20
229 
NATURE AND FOUNDATION
the happiness of human life be promoted."  "Civil society
conduces to that end."   "Civil societies cannot be upholden, unless ill each the interest of the whole society
be binding upon every part and member of it." Hence
the conclusion, "that so long as the interest of the whole
society requires it,-that is, so long as the established government cannot be resisted or changed without public inconvenience,-it is the will of God (which will universally
determines our duty) that the established government be
obeyed, and no longer." The argument is, not that government is expedient, and therefore we must obey; but
that it is expedient, and therefore it is the will of God;
and because it is his will, therefore we must obey.
Theory of Social N-ature. -Dissatisfied with this manner of explaining the subject, others have taken a different view of the matter, and have sought the foundation
of government in the moral and social nature of man.
It is no longer, according to this view, the arbitrary and
sovereign will of God, nor yet that will as governed by a
regard to expediency, but rather the nature and constitution of man, that is the basis oin which civil government reposes. That nature fits him for, and leads him
to adopt such an arrangement. It is his own institution,
his own choice, his instinctive, natural preference.   He
frames laws, and appoints rulers, and submits himself to
the control of those laws and those magistrates, on the
same principle that the bee and other insects observe a
certain order in the arrangement of their social affairs,
and maintain a certain government, following the direction of their leader, because such is their nature. In like
manner, the nature and constitution of man fit him to be
a member of society and of the state, even as they fit
him to be a member of the family. He adopts this
method, and continues it, not because he finds these in
230 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT
stitutions ready made, and imposed on him by the will
of the Creator, arbitrary or otherwise, without choice of
his own, but because he finds them exactly suited to his
nature and wants. This theory was held by many of the
ancient philosophers. It was the view maintained by
Plato and Aristotle, among the Greeks. Aristotle calls
man 7roXtTKov Zwov - a political animal.
Theory of Social  Compact.-There is still another
tlheory of government, differing in some important respects from either of those already mentioned, - a view
advocated by many distinguished writers, and, indeed,
the prevalent one of modern times; I refer to the theory
of social compact, as it is called.  This view -advanced
by Hobbes, adopted by several subsequent philosophers
of note in England, and on the continent, by Shaftesbury,
and essentially by Locke and his disciples -has come to
be, if I mistake not, the prevalent view, both in England
and our own country, and has been widely adopted by
jurists and members of the legal profession, as the prin
ciple on which civil government is supposed to rest.  Ac
cording to this theory, civil government is of the nature
of a contract between man and man, in which each binds
himself to fulfill certain conditions, and abide by certain
rules, mutually agreed upon; which rules and conditions
are binding so long as the contract stands. To these conditions it is the duty of every member of society to conform, for the same reason that it is his duty to abide by
any other obligation or contract, or to keep any other
engagement.
Those who enter into this arrangement - and every
one who lives in society, and enjoys its advantages, virtually and tacitly gives his consent and adherence to the
arlangement -mutually agree to relinquish each certain
281 
NATURE AND FOUNDATION
individual and natural rights into the keeping of the whole,
and for the benefit of the whole; in return for which, they
are to receive certain privileges, and be guarded and pro
tected in the full enjoyment of all their rights, personal and(
civil. It is for the advantage of each to abide by these
rules, and that others should do the same; hence the insti tution exists, and is continued from age to age.
Objections to this Theory.- The view now proposed
is by no means free firom objections. If civil government
rests upon a compact, -a mutual agreement, or engagement, formed among men, -then when, and where, and
by whom, was this agreement made? Where are the
records, and what the history of the transaction? "No
social compact similar to what is here described," says
Paley, "was ever made or entered into in reality; no
such original convention of the people was ever actually
holden, or in any country could be holdlen, antecedent
to the history of civil government in that country. It
is to suppose it possible to call savages out of caves and
deserts to deliberate and vote upon topics which the
experience and studies and refinements of civil life alone
suggest.  Therefore no government in the universe began
from this original."
To this it may be replied, that the question is not now
as to the origin of civil government -how it began -but
as to its basis - on what it rests - what is the ground of
the relation which we find existing between the citizen
and the state, the governed and the governors. It is no
answer to the theory under consideration, to say that no
government ever began in that way.  The question is not
how and when it began, but, having a beginning and existence, as a matter of fact, does it, or does it not, rest
upon the consent of the governed; is it, or is it not, of
the nature of a contract?
232 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
Nor is it enough to say that no record of any such
transaction exists-that no10 such contract in reality was
ever made.  Even if this were true, - which is by no means
certain,- it might be none the less true that the existing
governments are really of the nature of a contract or
agreement among the people, that they virtually rest upon
no other basis than the consent of the parties governed,
even though we cannot point to any formal engagement
to that effect, drawn up in so many words, and at such a
time and place. Whether we can point to such original
transaction or not, the real nature of the bond that holds
society together as an organized body, may be precisely
that of a mutual contract; and it may be very important
for us to know, and to admit this truth. No other form
of expression may so well and truly indicate the precise
relations which exist between the different members of
the body politic, and the reciprocal rights and duties of
each, as that now in question.
Further Reply. -It is by no means to be conceded,
however, that there is not in existence, as a matter of fact,
any such contract or mutual agreement as we are now
speaking of. It is not a mere figment of the imagination,
but a historic reality. There are, at least in every civilized nation, certain fundamental principles of law, and
of civil polity, which, whether written or unwritten, are
acknowledged, andl acted upon, as the basis of all civil
administration of affairs.  These, modified from time to
time, and gathered at last into complete form, compose
the constitution of the country, or the state.  This constitution is an existing historic fact, and the fundamental
principles which compose it existed in the public mind,
and were acknowledged as such, long before they were
collected into one body, reduced to form, and adopted as
20*
233 
NATURE AND FOUNDATION
a constitution. These principles and maxims, written or
unwritten, are the terms of the social compact; and when,
in the process of time, out of these principles, the constitution, as such, takes its distinct, manifest shape and form,
that is the written, formal contract, by which all parties in the state agree to abide. As such it is regarded
and treated by business-men, jurists, statesmen, lawyers -
all, in fact, who have to do with affairs of state, whether
in theory or practice.
The constitutions of the several states of this republic
are such compacts; they recognize themselves as such,
and contain in themselves the articles of compact. Thus
the constitution of Massachusetts:  "The body politic is
formed by a voluntary association of individuals. It is a
Social Compact, by which the whole people covenants
with each citizen, and each citizen with the whole people, that all shall be governed by certain laws for the
common good." The constitution of Connecticut recognizes the same principle: "All men, when they form a
social compact, are equal in rights." So, also, the opening
words of the constitution of New Jersey: "All the constitutional authority ever possessed by the kings of Great
Britain over their dominions, was by compact derived
from the people, and held of them for the common interest of the whole society."   Nor is this use of language unauthorized; for the vote of the English Parliament which deposed James-the Second, charges him with
having broken the original conmpact between king and
people.
It is not true, then, that no such thing as a social contract exists in reality. Every state constitution, whether
more or less complete and formal, is, in faict, such an instrument; all its articles are articles of mutual ngreement; and
all those fundamental principles and maxims, of which it
234 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
is the collection and embodiment, are, and were before
they were thus collected, and while as yet they lay unexpressed in the common mind, a virtual compact, having
for its object the defining and securing to every one his
rights.
Another Objectio)z. —It is also objected, by Dr. Paley
fnd others, to the theory now under consideration, that
it supposes, what in general is not true, that men have
actually given their consent to the government under
which they live; whereas, in fiact, they have had, for the
most part, no opportunity either to give or refuse their
consent. The question has never been asked them, "Are
you satisfied with this present arrangement of affairs,
or do you desire a change?"   But such consent, it is
argued, is always implied in a voluntary engagement or
contract; and where it is wanting, the transaction, what
ever else it may be, is no contract. To call it so, is a
misnomer - an expression both false and useless.  Supposing that my ancestors framed and entered into such
an agreement, called the constitution:  how does their
action bind me? What voice have I, what voice have
I ever had, in the matter? Or what has any one of the
fifty thousand or five hundred thousand inhabitants of
the same city or state with myself, to do in the matter?
And what right has any man, ancestor or not, to bind
me in this way, without my consent?
It must be confessed there is no little force in this
objection.  It must be confessed that men find themselves,
by birth, members of whatever form of civil society exists
around them, and that they have usually very little to do
wnith shaping and forming the government under which
they are to live. In this respect the state is clearly analogous to the family. It is not for a man to choose whether
he will belong to this nation, or to that; to this family,
235 
NATURE AND-FOUNDATION
or to another, or to none. These things are decided for
him.  He is by birth a member of the family, and subject
to parental rule. I-e is also by birth a member of civil
society, and must take it as hle finds it; at least, for a considerable part of his life.
Nor is it any answer to say, that such an arrangement
is for the best good of the subject. Doubtless it is so.
The question just now is, not whether it is a wise and
beneficial arrangement, but whether it is binling; and if
so, way, and on what ground?  Suppose I lo Inot choose
to be trammelled by this arrangement, which somebody
else, a few centuries ago, thlought to be wise and expedient-  what then?  Suppose, even, I do not choose to
submit to arrangements which are in reality for my own
good? What right has one age and generation to bind
another age, against its will, even to its own benefit?
The true answer to this reasoning I conceive to be, that,
by the very nature of human society, the engagemients of
one generation must be held as binding upon those that
come aftel, until at least they are directly rejected and
annulled by the latter.  Until such act of rejection, consent may fairly be presumed. Silence gives consent; the
simple living under and complying with the conditions of
such an arrangement, gives consent. As Paley himself
says with respect to the laws which regulate the administration of justice: "The law of nature, founded in the
very constitution of human society, which is formed to
endure through a series of perishing generations, requires
that the just engagements a man enters into should continue in force beyond his own life; it follows that the
private rights of persons firequently depend  upon what
has been transacted in times remote from the present,
by their ancestors or predecessors, or by those under
236 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
whom they claim, or to whose obligations they have suec
ceeded."
Now, this is true; but, as Dr. Whewell very justly re
marks, it is no more true of private rights, than of any
other; no more true of engagements which bind man and
man, than of those which bind man and the state, since
public rights, as well as private, and for the same reason.
depend often on what was done by those who preceded
us.
The True.Explan  ation.-  I am far from maintaining,
however, that the theory of a social contract is free from
objections.  Nor, on the other hand, can this be affirmed
of either of the theories previously adduced. Each of
them expresses an important element of truth. Neithei
of them, as it seems to me, conveys the whole truth.
Nor are these different theories necessarily exclusive of
each other. On the contrary, it is only by combining
whatever of truth is contained in each, with whatever is
contained in the others, that we reach the complete expllanation, the true philosophy, of civil government.
It is doubtless true, for example, that existing constitutions and forms of government are of the nature of a
social contract, in which the parties bind themselves to
observe certain conditions, for the sake of securing certain advantages; the parties being, severally, King and
People; or King, Lords, and Commons, on the one hand,
and people on the other, as in the case of the English
government; or,,as in our own country, every man withl
the whole people, and the whole people with every man.
Nor is this the less a compact because formed and entered
into by those who preceded the present generation.
This, then, is the first fact which meets us in our inves-.
tigation, -starting from the present actual condition of
231 
NATURE AND FOUNDATION
civil society, -the first step in the explanation of the
phenomenon of human government. But if we were to
stop here, we should leave much  unexplained.   How
came man to form such compacts- everywhere, in all
ages, and nations?  Is it accidental?  Is there not rathler
a foundlation in his very nature for just this condition of
things? Is he not, even, as Aristotle said, a political aninmal?  Here, then, we must bring in a second theory, and
place it beside, or rather beneath the first, - civil government is founded in compact, but that compact is founded
in the social nature of man.
Nor would I stop here.  How comes he by this nature?
Is it not the gift of God -an endowment conferred upon
the creature by the all-wise Creator? Did not God, in
making man as he is, and conferring upon him this social
nature, intend that he should be subject to civil authority?
Here, then, we bring in still a third theory, -that of the
divine will, - and place it at the foundation of the whole
Civil government is founded in compact; but that cornm
pact, again, depends on the nature of' man; and this, in
turn, rests ultimately on the will of God.
Of -Divine Authority in what Sense. - According to
the view now presented, civil government is of divine
authority in this sense, and in this sense only, -that by
the constitution of things, and of human nature, God has
settled it that civil government, of some sort, there shall
be; but of what sort it shall be, he has left it for men
themselves to decide; and this they do decide, each community or people for itself, by some sort of social compact
or agreement. It is not in the nature of things for any
community of human beings to consent to live together
without any form of government; and, in point of fact,
the rudest and wildest community on earth will be found
238 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
to have provided itself with some kind, and some degree
of civil government.
i III. - HISTORIC SKETCH. - DIFFERENT OPINIONS AS TO THE
NATURE OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
In the preceding sections the nature and foundation of
civil government have been discussed as regards their
general principles. It may serve to fix these principles
more definitely in our minds, and perhaps contribute to
the clearer apprehension of them, if we trace, in its general
outlircs, the history of the topic now under consideration,
as regarids the opinions which have been held by writers of
distinction respecting the nature of civil government.
Opiniois of the Ancients.- The idea of the state as a
natural and a necessary institution, having its foundation in
the very nature and constitution of man, was familiar to
the ancients.  Thus Aristotle: "It is manifest that the
state is one of- the things which exist by nature; and that
man is by nature a political animal. A man belonging to
no state is less than man, or more."
This view, however, by no means prevented them from
regarding civil government, at the same time, as of divine
origin, founded in the will of Deity. "All laws," says
Plato, "came from God. No mortal man was the founder
of laws."  Aristotle coincides with this view.  "Law,"
says Cicero, "is nothing else but right reason, derived firom
the divinity, and government an emanation of the divine
mind." The classical scholar need not be reminded that
the writings of the ancient masters are pervaded with this
sentiment.
Nor, again, does this divine origin of governlnent prcclude, in their opinion, the consent of the governed, as in
239 
NATURE AND FOUNDATION
reality the proximate source of power. Locke is not, as
often stated, the author of this theory of government; on
the contrary, it is a principle recognized in substance by
the most distinguished political philosophers of the ancient
world; and that in perfect consistency with their view of
the divine origin of government. The idea of a social
compact is no novelty in the world.
Plato makes "a tacit agreement between each member,
and the whole community," to be the foundation of the
state, and affirms that they who violate the laws, violate
the agreement.  "The civil law," says Aristotle, "is that
which takes place amongst a number of free persons, who
are members of the same community, in which they live on
a footing of equality."
"The state," says Cicero, "is not every assemblage of
men anyhow gathered, but a community united together
by common laws, common interest, and a common consent." In like manner, Livy affirms that the force of the
supreme command is based on the consent of those who
obey.
Of the [oderns. - Among the moderns, the doctrine
of the dlivine origin of government has been very generally
held by English divines and statesmen. Subjection to the
civil power, in the language of B)ishop Horsley, is "a coIInscientious submission to the will of God."  "Civil government," says Bishop Btetler, "is that part of God's government over the wvorld which he exercises by the instrumentality of men.  Considering that all power is of God, all
authority is properly of divine appointment."  The view
of D). P)(ley has already been stated.  He bases the autlhority of government on the will of God as collected from
exlpediency.  The following is the language of Edmund
Burke: "All dominion over man is the effect of the divine
240 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
disposition. It is bound by the eternal laws of him that
gave it, with wliielh no humana   authlority can dispense.
*  *  *   YWe are all born in subjection -all born equally,
high and l(w, governors and governed, in subjection to one
gieat, immutable, preexistent law, prior to all our devices,
and all our contrivances, paramount to all our ideas, and
all our sensations, antecedent to our very existence, -by
which we are knit and connected in the eternal frame of
the universe, and out of which we cannot stir. This great
law does not arise out of our conventions, or compacts;
on the contrary, it gives to our compacts and conventions
all the force and sanction they caii have."
Coincident with the views now expressed is that of the
great theologian Calving:  "The reason why we should be
subject to magistrates, is, because they are al)pointed by
the ordinance of God. Since it has pleased God( so to administer the government of this world, he who resists their
power, strives against the divine ordinance, and so fights
against God. Because, to disregard his providence who is
the author of civil government, is to go to war with him."
These words are a comment upon a passage in the thirteenth chapter of the epistle to the Romans, in which the
divine authority of civil government is very clearly set
forth, and which may be regarded as not merely the Pauline, but the general Scripture doctrine of human government.
iVeot InSconsistent with Social Compact.- But, while
maintaining the views now stated respecting human government, as founded in the will of God, and ultimately
deriving its authority from that high source, the writers
whom I have quoted by no means maintain that the variOtts forms which human governments practically assume
are also and equally of divine authority. On the contrary,
21
241 
NATURE AND FOUNDATION
they recognize the form as a matter of human invention
and choice; and so, and that not inconsistently, they recognize, in mnany cases, the principle of the social compact.
So, also, as we have seen, did Plato, Aristotle, and Cicero,
while, in like manner, tracing back all law to a divine original, nevertheless admit the consent of the governed as
the proximate source of authority in the state. Thus
Bishop ftorsley, whom I have already quoted, while maintaining " that all government is in such sort of divine
institution, that, be the form of any particular government
what it may, the submission of the individual is a principal
branch of that religious duty whichll each man owes to
God," is careful to admit "that all p)articulcar fourths of
government  wlhich now  exist are the work  of human
policy, under the control of God's overruling providence."
They have not thought it, therefore, at all inconsistent with
their theory of the divine authority of civil government, to
inquire into the origin and sources of political power, as a
thing of human contrivance and social compact. For, as
has been well stated by Puffendorf, in his Law  of Xature
and Nations, "he who affirms sovereignty to result imnmediately from compact, doth not in the least detract firom
the sacred character of civil government, or maintain that
princes bear rule by human right only, not by divine."
The doctrine of Social Compact has been held, in fact, by
almost all the chief writers on Moral and Political Philosophy in modern times. Puffendorf, Grotius, Montesquieu,
Blackstone, Milton, Bacon, Sidney, Locke, Barbeyrac, Burlamaqui, John Q. Adams, Jefferson, are among the more
prominent names which occur in this connection. Of these,
it will be sufficient to quote as authority Grotius and Blackstone.  The former says: "Men, not iiluenced by the
express command of God, but of their own accord, having
242 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
experienced the weak defence of separated families against
the assaults of violence, united themselves in civil society,
the effect of which was civil power, styled on this account,
by St. Peter, the ordinance of man."  Blackstone hlolds
the following language respecting "the original contract of
society."  "This contract, though perhaps in no instance
has it ever been formally expressed at the first institution
of a state, yet in nature and reason must be always understood and implied, in the very act of associating together;
namely, that the whole should protect all its parts, and that
every part should pay obedience to the will of the whole;
or, in other words, that the community should guard the
rights of each individual member, and that, in return for
this protection, each individual should submit to the laws
of the community." The same authority, than which none
is higher, pronounces the coronation oath taken by the
monarchs of England on ascending the throne, to be, without dispute, an express and fiundamental contract. This
has always been the doctrine of the English Whigs. They
acted on it when they brought Charles I. to the bar, and
deposed James II. As already stated, the constitutions of
these United States are based on the same great principle
-the Social Compact.
CHAPTER II.
VARIOUS FORMS OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
THE origin and object of civil government, and also the
foundation on which it rests, have occupied our attention
in the preceding chapter.  A glance at the various forms
243 
VARIOUS FORMS
which government assumes in its actual working, and at
the dlistribution of its several powers, will enable us the
better to comprehend tlhe practical duties, growing out of
these several relations, as they miay come up for consideration in the subsequent chapters.
~I. L-ANALYSIS OF THE SEVERAL FUNCTIONS AND FORMS
OF GOVERNMENT.
It has been already observed, that every state is sovereign and independent-the power of directing its own
affairs lying wholly in its own hands.   The state, in its
aggregate capacity, however, cannot administer government, nor eniiact laws, nor execute justice. The whole
mass of the people cannot leave their places of business,
assemble in one body, and so devote their personal attention to the affairs of government, the devising of suitable laws and regulations, or the trial and punishment
of offenders. Evidently, this is out of the question. Hence
the necessity for delegated authority. The state, which is
the real sovereign, - that is, the people, - must commit
its power, for the time, into the hands of those duly appointed and authorized to act for it, and whose acts, when
thus commissioned, shall be in reality the action of the
state. Now, as these officers, charged with the administration of government, vary as to number, and mo<ie of
appointment, and the nature and degriee of the power
committed to them, in this manner there arise so niany
different fortes of government, in different countries, and
different periods of history, -as monarchy, absolute or limited; aristocracy; republicanism, or unlimited democracy.
General Division of Functions. -Whatever may be
the particular form which the government of a country
244 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
assumes, there is usually a general division of thle several
l)owers and fiiinctioiis of thle governlfl(,it into distinct
iep)artmnents, whvlich are much the saine un(l(r ill varieties
of state org,anizationi, and in all civilized countries.  It is
foIund desirable, for obvious reasons, to distribute the powers of government into three grandcl depalrtnlents,- tlhe
Leg,islative, the Jcudicial, and the Executive, - and to keep
these entirely distinct from each other.
The wisdom of such an a,rangement will appear on a
moment's reflection.  Were the business of enacting and
of executing thle laws committed to the same hands, such
is the imperfection of human nature, that serious difficulties would be likely to arise.  There would be too much
room for personal bias and prejudice.  The executive would
enact such laws as suited his own notions and plans of
government.  The legislator would execute the laws according, to his own ideas of the imlportance of this or that
enactment, vwhich he might have favored or opposed, while
it was under discussion, prior to its becoming a law.  The
judge could not, with impartiality, try offences against laws
which he had himself made, and was himself to execute.
It is never safe to entrust these several I,owers to the same
hands.   ITence, with most governments, not altogether
despotic, the power of legislating, or making  the laws,
is entrusted to one body; that of judging them, or trying
off(,nces under them, to anotlher; and that of executing
the decisions thus made, to still another; and these are
called the Leyislative, the Jtdlicial, and the Executive
departments of government.
Upon these, again, certain checks are devised, for the
prevention of abuse of powei,.  The legislative body is
usually comlnposed of two parts, houses, or orideis, diflfrently constituted, whose concuirent action is neessary to
21*
245 
VARIOUS FORMS
the p.iss.age of any measure.   Furtlher, to guard against
possible abuse of power, even under this  alrrang,enieiat,
there is also the rightt of veto, - lo(dged usually with the
executive,-by which it is inl his power to check a-ll rash
and unwise legislation.  In the Jttdici(ary there is an effectual guarantee against intentional injustice, in the power
of appeal firom court to court, so that a case reaches its
final dec.sion only after hlaving passed through successive
trials, at different tribunals.
Diferent Forms of Gover-nment.- Bes;ides the general
divisions now indicated, and which are more or less comlnon to all governments, not purely despotic in their iiature, there are certain leading distinctions to be observed
in respect to the various forms whictl the government may
llaplpen to assume. In different states, and at different
1)eliods of time, these forms vary widely and radically.
The form of a government is determined by the character
of its legislature or law-nmaking power.  As is that, so is
the goveirnient.  There are three l)rincipal forms which
government assumes; or, more strictly, so many elements of
power, which, either singly or in various combinations,
enter into the structure, and determine the form, of all
governments. These are the monarchic, or despotic, the
aristocratic, and the democratic.   According as one or
another of these elements prevails, we have for a government, monarchy absolute, or monarchy limnited, aristo(racy,
the representative republic, or the complete democracy.
In the first, or absolute monarc/y, the power is lodged in
the hands of one.  His will is law.  The  monarch is at
once executive, and law-maker, and, if he pleases, judge
also; that is, those who may be nominally entrusted with
the functions of legislative and judiciary power, are so at
his pleasure, by his appointment, and, therefore, under
246 
OF CIVIL GO-VLRNAMENT.
his comnple(te control.  To his power  tlherei are 1no constitiution:.l ceckes or lesti-aiits.  In the limite  ~t(t'ch   // this
supreime Ipower of the kiing, o0r cmil)eror, is imo(ifie(ld, a,d held
in check l)by thle otlhei departments of goverinment, and by
sonstitutioalaI restr;ints, which aflix certain limits, beyond
which he inay not go.  The legislative, tlc juldiciary, and
the executive flunctions are kel)t distinct, andl the i)rerogatives and powers of each are carefully gua(rde(l.  Still, the
imoilarchical element, or the idea of power in the hands of
one, tlhough in a miodified form, prevails, and gives shape
to the governnment.
In the cti'stocracy, we have a select body, sharing among
themselves the powers and prerogatives of the governmeIt, or exercising the same in their collective capacity;
filliIng their own vac'ncies, or conaing into their places by
inherit:ncec, or by acquisition of certain titles, rank, or possessions.  The law-l-)ower is lod(ged no longer now in the
hands of one, but of the few, -  descended firom  a line of
noble ancestors, distinguislie(d for thleir valor, their high
birth, or their achievements in history, or themselves the
architects, it may be, of their own fortunes,-taking rank,
not by inheritance, but by tle splendor of their own talents, thleir own fortunes, or their own services.  These few
stand forth fironom  among the common  multitude, and rulo
by virtue of conceded superiority.
In the pure democracy we have the simnple reverse of
pure monarelly, -power now in the hands of the many;
not ultim-ltely, merely-for ultimately it is always with the
many, und(ler wlhatever formi it may present itself to the
view -  but  directly and  immnediately;  not in  reality
merely, but in form.  The people at large make laws for
themselves in assemblies of the whole, or by divisions and
tribes.  The will of the people is law, with no intervening
247 
VARIOUS FORMS
instrumentality or agency to give it expression and validity.  Or this democratic element, like the iiionrichiic, may
present itself in a imodifiedl form,- the people, instead of
acting every man in person, in the assembly of the whole,
delegating, their power to certain persons authorized to
act for them, or represent them; the real power still lying
in the hands of the many, nevertheless, who choose only
such persons as they please to represent them, and who
have in some form the power of approving or revoking the
decisions of the same.
We have, then, as distinct elements of governmentmonarchy, absolute or limited; aristocracy; and democracy,
pure or representative. As a matter of fact, very few
governments present either of these forms, however, in a
simple or pure state, but more or less intermingled and
combined with each other. Thus, we may have a mon.
archy, so far as regards the name and nature of the chief
magistracy, along with an aristocracy or body of nobility,
enjoying certain powers and privileges; and back of these,
again, a representative body, acting for the people, and, to
some extent, holding in check both nobles and monarch.
Such is the actual constitution of the English government.
The Commons have the power of voting or refltising all
taxes and supplies, and also, they have the control of the
army, - thus holding in their hand both the purse and the
sword of government.
Our own constitution, also, while it dispenses with monarch and nobles, is by no means a simple and pure democracy, like the Athenian of old. The many are represented
in legislative assembly. Over against this popular branch
is placed the conservative element - a Senate- answering in idea, though not in form, to the Upper House of
English Parliament; while in the chief executive, we have
that concentration of authority in the person of one, which,
248 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
under a widely different form, is still, so far as it enters at
all into the political fatbric, the essential eleminent of des
potic rather than democratic rule.
These different forns of government, now described,
lhave each their separate and special advant.ages, anid, also;
lisadvantages.  In proportion as the monarchic element
prevails, government becomes efficient, strong, united in
council, prompt and decisive in action. The tendency is
to greater and greater assuml)tion of power by the one, to
the injury of fireedom, and the rights of the many. In
proportion as democracy prevails, the popular will and
rights are maintained; but often at the expense of wisdom
in council, and of unity and efficiency in action.
The constitution of the English government, and, in a
still higher degree, that of these United States, seem to
me to present a combination of these several elements,
wisely adapl-)ted to secure the most desirable results, with,
perhaps, the fewest disadvantages.
~ II. - HISTORICAL SKETCH OF FORMS OF GOVERNMENT.
The  varaious possible forms of government, and the
several elements which entecr more or less fully into the
structure and composition of all forms, have been pointed
out in the preceding section.   Casting our eye now on
the pag,e of history, we shall find the various governnments
of the ancient and the modern time nmarked and chars
acterized by the prevalence, some cf one, some of anotlier
of these severial elements, -in some  the monarchical,
in others the ctristocratic, in others still, the democratic
element prevailing, and giving character to the form of
government.   It may serve to fix in our minds the principles already indicated, if we take a rapid glance at the
I-) I 11) 
VARIOUS FORMS
civil ilstitutions of some  of the nations prominent in
history.
THE  IIEPREw  STATE. -  The  civil polity of this remarkable people was primarily a Tlteocracy.  God was
the supremIe ruler and civil head of the state; in him
was vested tlhe ltw-mnaking power — the sovereignty.  Such
a constitution of tl]e state was no novelty, indeed, in the
ancient world; but, on the contIary, was quite in accordance with the spirit of those earlier times.  All the
ancient law-givers - firom Menes in Egypt, and C.admus
in Thlebes, to Lycurgus in Sparta, and Numa in PRomen-e
called in the aid of relig,ion to strengthen the foundations
of the civ-il power.  With them, however, the religious
sentiment was merely a mea)ts to an end: in the Ihebrew
)polity, it was itself a chief end of the civil constitution.
TIhe recognition and adoration of one Go,], the supreme
and irigitful lRuler of the universe, Nwas ai ftiinl:i.ent:tl law
of the Hebrew state, a first p)in('il)le of tlhe civil polity.
fllolatiy was a crime against the state, punislhable as such;
:.nd, oi~ the other hand, the violation of the laws of the
state was iregarded as sin against God.
I)Democratic Elemeit.- The Hebrew polity was  not,
however, a p?tre Theocracy.   The sovereignty vested in
Jehovah was not to the exclusion of the civil magistrate;
it was  an element of the government, rather than the
government  itself.   Another  anid equally  characteristic
element of that government was  (lem)ocracy, -a mragistiacy elected by the people, and a constitutioii adop)ted
by the people.   Jehovah himself would not become  the
sovereign and civil head of the state, until he had been
forimally and solemnly chosen  as such by the stiffiages of
tire assemibly.  Summoned, at the call of the triimpi)et, to
the heigllts of Sinai, Moses  receives commission to pro
250 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
pose to the people Jehovah as the national sovereign.
The proposition is considered and accel,ted, in due form,
by the peol)le yielding their firee and soleinn assent.  And
all the people answered togethler: "All that the Lord hath
spoken we will do."  A  solemn  covenant is then entered
into, - Jehovah, on his part, plrotiisitig to be the ruler and(
protector of the nation; the people, onI their part, promis.
ing faitllfil allegiance.   Here, then, in due manner and
form, is one instance, at least, of that which certain writers
can find no trace of in history, viz., a social cons ctc.  It
is a clear aii(l mnanifest examnple of the imannier i:, w.icl,
substantially,  ill firee governments  take their ris(.  As
such it is recognized by the highest authorities, - Jahn,
Lowman, Michaelis, Graves, Bossuet.
Further  )emnocratic Elemezt. - In like manner, the
fundamental laws of the state were adopted by the people
in assemrnbly of the whole.  The Hebrew constitution was
submitted to and adopted by the Hebrew people, as really
:1I,l fiormally as the constitution of the United States wis
submnitted to and adopted by the several states of the
Union.  At the death of Moses, it seems to have been
again subjected to l)op)ular suiffrage; and once in every
seven years thereafter, by statute law, it was, in like
manner, to be ratified in assemnbly of the whole.
Such a government is, in the true sense, a government
l)y the people, a democracy, -the constitution, the laws,
tlhe chief ruler, being subject to the popular will.
Not only the laws, and the chief ruler, were chosen by
the people, but also the judges, and the chliefs, or princes
of the several tribes. Each tribe seems to have been
under the immediate direetioi of its prince, and to have
1L)oei subdivided into several classes, or groups of families,
eclih havning its own chief or elder.   These princes of
tribes, together with the chiefs: or hleads of families were,
251 
VARIOUS FORMS
in reality, representatives of the people, and constituted
what may be called the popular branch of thie government. Each tribe constituted, in fact, a separate state, in
many  respects independent, under its ownvi  l p'ince  and
chiefs of families. It could even declare war, and make
peace, for itself.
E!euality of Classes and of Land(ed Property. - These
several features constitute a strongly democratic cast of
government, more nearly approaching a purely republican
state than any other, perhaps, on record, except our own.
To these characteristics should be added, also, the soci(al
equality of the people, - every person, whatever his birth,
rank, wealth, or profession, beinig oni a footing of entire
equality, both socially and politically, with every other
person in the state; - and also the eqtcual dist)-ibttion of
landed property among the people;  thus  secutring the
political independence of the masses, promioting industry
and a fondness for agricultural pursuits, giving dignity to
labor, and cherishing the spirit of manly self-reliance, the
love of home and of the soil.
Such were the leading features of the Hebrew polity.
THE EGYPTIAN STATE. - XVhen we compare these
institutions, so liberal, and, in many respects, so closely
resembling our own, with those of other nations of antiquity, we are struck with the contrast.  In Egypt, for
example,- firom  which, if from any cottntry, Moses must
be supposed to have derived his notions of civil government, -  the state was a despotismn.   The soil belonged to
the monarch, and the people who cultivated it belonged
more to the king, than to themselves.  Tihe institution of
caste -  that curse of oriental nations -  )revailed in full
rigorI, separating the p)eol)le into three great classes, - the
priestly, the military, and the common people, or laboring
252 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
class; which latter were a mere herd, without possessions
or honors. The military were supported from the public
lands, - one-third of the entire national domain being
divided among them for this purpose. The priesthood
was the ruling class- making, modifying, and interpreting the laws, and filling all the civil offices. The king was
chosen either from the sacerdotal or the military caste;
but the people had no voice in the election. Thus the
king governed the nation, the gods governed the king
(for Egypt, too, was strongly theocratic); but the priests
governed the gods, by putting into their miouths such
oracles as they chose.
THn  ORIENTAL STATES. -Not unlike the Egyptian, in
its general features, were the several chief oriental governments  of the ancient world.   The  Assyrian  and the
Persian states, for example, were absolute monarchies,complete military despotisms, - in which the will of the
monarch, who was at the same time warrior and king,
was the supreme law.  He might be a just and humane
man, like Cyrus, or the reverse; he might govern wisely
and well, like Darius; or unjustly and arbitrarily, as many,
if not most of the Assyrian and Persian monarchs; but
in either case he was a despot - irresponsible, unrestrained
by law or constitution.
THE SPARTAN GOVERNMENT. -Nor yet in Sparta, under
Lycurg,us, do we find much that corresponds to our idea
of civil liberty and popular rights. The power of the state
was lodged in the hands of the senate, a body of nobles,
holding office for life. The people had, indeed, the right
to vote on any proposition submitted by the senate; but it
must be without discussion, or statement of reasons,
simply yes or no. It was for the senate to originate all
22
253 
VARrOUS FORMS
laws; in them, also, was vested the whole executive
power, and  all the  more  important judicial  decisions
were likewise in their hands. Ilere we have an irresponsible oligarchy, -the centralization of power in the hands
of a body of nobles, - one of the worst forms of despotism. In no nation, perhaps, was there ever less real free.
dom, as to the matters of state, and also of common life,
than among the Spartans. All the affairs of social and
domestic life, even the food and dress and manners of the
citizens, were regulated by strict and stern decree.
THE ATHENIAN STATE. -  In Athenis, again, we find a
tyranny hardly less despotic, but of another kind, -the
despotism not of the one, nor of the few, but of the many,
-the despotism of a turbulent, fickle, and lawless democracy. The Athenian State was, firom the first, strongly
democratic. Even under the monarchical form of governmnent, this tendency was apparent. The kings possessed
no absolute power, nor could they make or unmake laws
at their pleasure. But not even the form of monarchy
was suffered long to remain. By a clever artifice -the
election of Jupiter as sole sovereign of the people- royalty is virtually abolished, and the chief power is lodged in
the hands of archons, chosen by the people, or else by lot,
at first for life, then for ten years, and, finally, year by year.
These archons presided over the civil and military affairs of
the state -over religion- its laws, its courts of justice.
Still, the power was in the hands of the people. Every
citizen, however pool', had his vote in the popular assembly;
and with that assembly lay the power of peace and war, of
trying appeals firom the civil courts, of regulating commerce and finance; in a word, of general legislation. The
people were coilnete masters of the state.
This had been well, if the people had only been masters
2,54 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
of themselves also; but, unfortunately, they were poorly
fitted for self-govellment. Ever under the influence of
designing men and demagogues; ever ready to be carried
away, with or without due cause, by some new excitement;
ever jealous of true greatness, and of distinguished service
rendered to the state; ever impatient of restraint, and of
all constitutional barriers;-liberty soon degenerated with
them into licentiousness: the annual elections became
scenes of disorder; and Athens, broken into contending
factions, seemed on the verge of ruin. Draco and Solon
were successively called to the helm, in this emergency; but
neither the severity of the one, nor the genius and wisdom
of the other, proved adequate to the task of imposing the
needed restraints on this lawless element of popular will.
Various checks were indeed introduced by Solon into
the constitution, such as the division of the citizens into
classes on a property basis, and the restriction of offices to
the more wealthy; the institution of a senate of four hundred, or council of state, to prepare business for the popular
assembly; the reestablishment of the Areopagus, as guardian of the laws, and of the public treasure, of education
and of morals; and, finally, the appointment of courts of
judicature, with juries taken from the people, and of itin.
erant judges for less important cases. These checks on the
popular lawlessness were well devised, but in practice
ineffectual. Neither senate of four hundred, nor Areopagus, famous for its wisdom, could withstand the tide of
popular commotion. The popular will triumphed over all
restraints of constitutional law; and, within ten years frotn
its adoption, the constitution of Solon gave place to a
military despotism.
THE ROMAN  STATE. -The  classical scholar will not
need to be reminded that the history of ancient Rome is
255 
VARIOUS FORMS
but the narrative of one continued struggle between Aris
tocracy and Democracy- the Patrician and the Plebeian
blood.  In the original constitution of the state, the formnl
alone, of these two classes, was recognized as having
place and privilege; the latter was an undistinguished
herd, a mere rabble, a populace, occupying certain sections
of the city, and formiing a large portion of the rank and
file of the army, but of no account politically; admitted
neither to the senate, the magistracy, nor the deliberative
assembly.
The senate, composed entirely of patricians, or nobles,
with the king or the consuls at its head, was the adminiistrative body, the executive powerJ. The senate, together
with the people,- Se)atus Populusque Ro)zan(us, - constituted the deliberative and legislative body- an assembly of patrician families, distributed into cuire or wards,
according to the section of the city in which they dwelt,thirty in all, -the decision of a majority of which, or of
sixteen, was pronounced the will of the people. This assembly, or body, was called the Comitia Curiata, and was
first instituted by Romulus. In this arrangement the plebeians - the common people -had no share whatever.
Contitia Centuriata.- It was not till the reign of Servius Tullius that the claims of this portion of the citizens
came to be recognized in the administration of government,
by the institution of an assembly called the Comitia Centuriacta, composed of patricians and plebeitans together.
This gave them important advantages; but still they were
excluded from all the higher offices, and fi'om intermarriage
with the patrician families.  Nor was their share in legislation more than nominal. The constitution of the Comitia
Centuriata was as follows: Tullius divided the p)eople into
six classes, on a property basis,-  the first class consisting
of all those whose estates, in lands and effects, anmounted to
256 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
one hundred thousand pounds of brass; the second, of
those who were worth seventy-five thousand; the third, of
those worth fifty thousand; and so on to the sixth class,
which included all those worth less than twelve thousand
five hundred. This last included, of course, most of the
plebeians. These classes, again, were divided into centuries, one hundred and ninety-three in all; of which
ninety-eight, a majority of the whole, were in the first class,
while the whole of the sixth class, comprising a much
larger number of the people than any other, constituted
but a single century.  As the vote was by centuries, this
arrangement, of course, threw the whole power into the
hands of the upper classes.  Wealth predominated over
numbers. The vote of the first class was first taken, and
if the centuries comprising that class were unanimous, the
question wv-s decided, and the remaining centuries were
not called.  The great body of the people, in filect, never
voted at all in this sort of assembly, except in case of a
tie in the previous ballots; and it hardly ever happened
that the lowest class was called. In these assemblies, the
more important magistrates were chosen,- the consuls,
pretors, censors, military tribunes, -the laws proposed by
the higher magistrates were passed, war was declared, and(
all crimnes aglinst the state were tried.
ChlIa)ye of Cotstitution. - The disparagement and in.
equality of which I have spoken, came at last to be so
deeply felt by the plebeian class, that they resolved no
longer to submit to it, and withdrew in a body fiom the
state. In order to persuade them to return, important con
cessions were now made.  AiFrom the ranks of the plebeians
two magistrates were appointed, to be chosen by the peo.
ple themselves, called Tribunes of the Plebeians, as guardians of the interests and rights of that body.   Their
persons were inviolable, and they had full power to arrest
22*
257 
VARIOUS FORMS
all legal proceedings against any citizen. As another
measure of relief, the debts of impoverished plebeians
were also cancelled.  The Comitia Tributa, or Assembly
of the Tribes, was also instituted, which gave the plebeians
some share in legislative affairs.
These comitia embraced, nominally, all the citizens; but,
as the votes of all were here of equal weight, the patricians,
or nobles, seldom attended, and the assembly was, in fact, a
plebeian affair. In these assemblies, the inferior city and
provincial magistrates were chosen, certain laws were
passed, and certain trials, not of a capital nature, were held.
The tribunes of the people were also elected in these
comitia.
The specific powers and functions of these several assemblies -the Senate, the Centuries, and the Tribeswere probably not very clearly defined. The system, as
thus arranged, was complicated and ill-adjusted, and, in its
practical working, by no means harmonious. Patricians
and plebeians were still in constant rivalry and altercation.
The latter, however, by virtue of long-continued and
determined struggles, were gradually gaining more and
more power in the state. Step by step, important rights
were secured.   Intermarriage of the two classes was no
longer forbidden. The senate, and even the consulship,
were brought within reach of plebeian talent and ambition. Finally, of the two consuls, one was to be chosen
invariably from the plebeian ranks, and the other high
magistracies were thrown open to all classes of the people. The decrees of the Comitia Tributa were also invested with the authority of general law, and not binding,
as before, merely upon the plebeians themselves. In fact,
the political distinction of the two classes came to be of
much less consequence than before.
These gradual and important changes introduced what
258 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
has been justly called the golden period of the Roman
constitution. The regal, the aristocratic, and the democratic elements are at last more equitably and harmoniously combined,- the consuls representing the regal,
the senate the aristocratic, and the comitia of centuries
and  tribes the democratic power of the state.   Up  to
this time, these several powers had been in continual agi.
tation and strife with each other for the ascendency~
The whole history of the Republic, in truth, from the
expulsion of the kings until the point which we have now
reached, wvas one continued struggle between these separated and inharmonious elements.  The chief power had
been in the hands of the wealthy and the noble, who
were ever plotting against the rights of the people; consuls, pretors, senators, were clothed with the highest anthority, even of life and death; the laws were severe, and
often unequally administered; while the tribunes, set to
guard the rights of the people, were ever aiming at the
possession of power and honor for themselves, and so
were often false to their trust.  Such were the radical
defects of the Roman constitution in what we may call
the transition period of its history.
Furthe- UChange. -How long this better adjusted system might have continued, or how well it might have
operated in the absence of disturbing causes fi'om without, it is not for us to say. But as Rome enlarged her
borders, and her power extended over tile several provinces and states that lay round about her, the polity constructed originally for the government of the city, was
found ill adapted to the government of an extended country. The people of the whole of Italy were too numerous to act in concert as a body.   The  representative
system of modern times was not as yet invented. The
259 
VARIOUS FORMS
democratic element of the state became  unwieldy and
unmanageabl)le.   Scenes of lawlessness and violence ensued; mnobs p)revailed; armies were necessary to preserve
the peace.  And so security was purchased at the expense
of liberty, and military rule placed in tihe hands of the
successful leader the sceptie of inpl)erial power.
This power was unlimited.  The oath of allegiance,
which bound the soldier, by the mnost solemn imprecations, and in the most absolute mainner, to the service and
obedience of his commander, now bound him in the same
terms to the emperor, as coimmander-in-chief;  and  this
oath was taken, not by the soldiers only, but by all mnagistrates and citizens.  The civil and military authority were
thus united; the legislative and the executive powers
reverted to one possessor; even the religious authority
was added, -the emperor being invested with a sacreld,
and, in some sense, divine character; and so monarchy
displaces at last the constitution, and assumes to itself
the powers and rights of the people.  Such, in brief outline, is the history, and such the termination, of the Roman State.
FEUDAL SYSTEM. - Thus far, in our rapid survey of the
progress of government among different nations, our attention has been directed to the ancient world.  Glancing
now at the more recent times, we find in the middle ages
a system widely prevalent, and of marked peculiarities,
generally known as the Feu(dal System.
The northern tribes, which, on the decline of the Roman power, overran and took possession of the provinces
previously subject to the imperial sway, seem to have
been, for the most part, of republican tendencies.  TI)eiv
chiefs, though sometimes designated by the title of king,
possessed but limited power. The supreme authority was
260 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
with the people, the freemen of the nation.  The additional authority conferred upon the chief appointed to the
command of the army in war, continued only till the
return of peace. These German chiefs had each a band
of followers, voluntarily attached to him, supported at his
table, and devoted to his service. They were his vassi,
his young men; hence the term homage, fiom the Latin
homo. They who stood in this relation to the chief, or
superior, held themselves ready to follow the fortunes of
their leader, and sacrifice life itself for his interest.  The
connection was one of the most binding and sacred nature; and when the German tribes subdued the surrounding
provinces, and established their own forms of government
in the conquered territories, the relation now  described
became one of the chief features of the policy thus established.  Thus arose the Feudal System, so called from the
term Feud, or Fief, which was the name given to those
landed possessions which the chiefs bestowed on their
retainers, in the partition of the conquered lands. These
fiefs were merely life-loans, the right of ownership being
vested in the chief. If the son, however, devoted his person and service to the chief whom his father had served,
he received, by custom, his father's fief; and this custoim,
in the course of centuries, came to be regarded as a right.
This tenure of land by military service, which is one of
the prominent features of the feudal system, and which
in fact has given it its name, seems, however, to have been
of earlier origin. It was, in fact, a custom borrowed from
the days of the Roman Empire.  Under Constantine, and
the earlier emperors, the distant provinces of the empire
were granted to certain military dukes, or counts, an(d
their soldiery, on condition of their defending the same.
These military leaders were magistrates, as well as coininanders of the troops; and the military thus organized
261 
VARIOUS FORMS
constituted a distinct and privileged class-a military
aristocracy.
Thus arose the feudal system of the middle ages, - at
first Germanic, afterwards extended over most of Europe,
- a system of which the' principal features were the two
now indicated -the relation of Seignior and Vassal, and
the tenure of land as fief, or feud, for service rendered.
It was, on the whole, an advance on the arbitrary power
of the Roman Empire. The inferior had his acknowledged rights, and the chief his acknowledged obligations.
The service of the one was to be repaid by the protection
of the other. Still, it was a system fraught with abuse
and oppression. The lowest members enjoyed very little
liberty, while to the peaceable inhabitants - those who
were not included in the army- this system afforded no
security or protection in their rights.
ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.- The earlier Anglo-Saxon
race seem to have derived from their Germanic ancestry
a love of freedom, which infused itself into their laws and
institutions. The Great Council of the nation - composed
of prelates, abbots, aldermen, or elder-men, of the shires,
and the noble and wise of the realm - gave its consent to
all the important acts of government, and to all the laws
of the land. The Norman Conquest introduced into England the feudal system, with even augmented rigor; but
the conqueror so far relaxed his severity, subsequently, as
to grant his subjects a charter, relieving in a degree the
feudal oppression. Successive charters, under successive
kings, granted still greater liberty; but it was not until the
Great Charter of King John, that the English constitution
can be said to have received its distinctive impress and
character. This instrument has always and justly been
regarded as lying at the foundation of English constitu
262 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
tional law.  In the language of Mr. Hallam: "This is still
the key-stone of English liberty. All that has since been
obtained, is little more than as confirmation or commentary; and if every subsequent law were to be swept away,
there would still remain the bold features which distinguish a free /rom a despotic monarchy."   This charter
guarantees security of person and of property to all freemen.  "No freeman shall be taken, or imprisoned, or disseized of his freehold, or liberties, or free customs; or be
outlawed, or exiled, or any otherwise destroyed.   Nor
will we pass upon him, but by the lawful judgment of his
peers, and of the law of the land." The charter also limits and restrains the previously excessive power of the
feudll lords over their vassals.
_Fturther Scfeguards. - Another safeguard of English
liberty was the restriction of the right of taxation. Under
the Saxon and the Norman dynasty, the king legislated
only with the advice and consent of his Parliament; all
new laws, and all new taxes, as well as other laws, must
receive the sanction of this council of the realm. The
Great Charter restrained somewhat the royal power as to
taxes already established,- as, for example, the tax in coma
mutation for personal military service, called escitage,-but
it wias not until Edward the First that the English constitution received its complete and dofinite form, as respects
the right of taxation, requiring the consent of Parliament
to all taxes imposed by the crown, and thus securing to
private property that protection which was gained for personal liberty under the Great Charter of King John.
Already, however, had another and even more important
step been taken in the progress of constitutional liberty in
Enigland.  The same century that gave England the Malgna
Charta, and the concessions of Edward  the First, as to
right of taxation, witnessed the introduction of a new fea
263
4 
VARIOUS FORMS
ture into her government, -the participation of the corn
mon people, with the nobles, in the deliberations and decis
ions of the Great Council; in other words, the establishment of the House of Commons. The first appearance of
deputies fiom cities and boroughs in Parliament, was after
the defeat of Henry the Third, by the Balow, in the battle
of Lewes; and not until Edward the First were they
permanently connected with that body. In successive
reigns the power of this body was enlarged, and more fillly
established; its concurrence with the House of Peers became necessary, in order to any alterations of the law; and
it exercised the right of inquiry into public measures, and
abuses, and even of impeaching the king's ministers. In
the fifteenth century, under the reign of the House of
Lancaster, these powers were still further developed: the
exclusive right of taxation by Parliament was secured, and
so the right of controlling the iational expenditure; the
right of making the supplies of the crown depend upon
redress of grievances; the right of controlling the royal
decisions in questions of peace and war; of punishing unworthy and corrupt ministers; and, what is quite as important, the right of liberty of person, and liberty of speech,
to every member of Parliament.
These were measures of great moment, and proved an
effectual security against the encroachments of arbitrary
power. From that time onward, though subject still to
many abuses and reverses, the English constitution became
the great bulwark of liberty defined and protected by law.
The great elements of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy, were so adjusted, and set over against each other, as
to afford due check and balance each to the other.  Constitutional government, though sometimes overborne by
the arbitrary power of a monarch more bold and assuming
than the rest, never failed to regain its former possessions
264 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
and rilghts. The power of Ilenry the Eighth, of Mary, and
of Elizabetli, w,-s still a power limited and controlled by
established lavw.  As Whewell justly remarks: "Elizabeth
firequently spoke to her Parliaments in an imperious manner; but they, too, had members, who spoke boldly on
the other side; and though she exercised a large power in
some instances, she yielded in others. The voice of English
freedom was never silenced in the Houses of Parliament,
nor the voice of English law in the Courts of Justice."
The great Revolution of 1688, which declared the throne
of James the Second vacant, and placed William the
Third upon that throne, as the representative of constitutional liberty, was the final death-scene of the doctrine of
absolute power, and of the divine right of kings in Eng
land.
CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. -Our historical
sketch of the difflerent forms of civil government would be
quite incomplete if we were to pass without notice the
constitution of our own country. A very brief survey of
its more prominent features is all which the limits of the
present section allow.
The British colonies of North America - the germ of
the states which compose the Union- brought to the formation and settlement of their political and civil institu
tions, a wisdom and experience in such matters not always
enjoyed by the founders of new states. They had the history of Europe and of the world to guide them. They
brought with them from the mother country a love of liberty, and just ideas of human rights; while, at the same
time, they were far from thliose,restraints which ancient
customs and usages, and the regard for what is once established, impose on the progress of opinion and improvement in the Old World. The first principles of freedom
23
265 
VARIOUS FORMS
they had learned in the father-land; while the errors orf
that government, and their own personal injuries:ld sufferings under it, rendered them deeply sensible of the d.ngers and evils to be avoided.  When, in the progress of
events, their independelnce of all foreign power left them
at liberty to choose their own form of gover-nment, the
constitution which, after mature deliberation, was adopted,
may be regarded as the united act and will of the whole
people.
Pri)ck)le of?ep)resentatio?. -The distiT guishlling, feature of the goveinment- thle hbasis on whichl  the wllole
system rests -on which all fi'ee institutions imust ever rest
-is the I)rinciple of just and equal representation,-:. representation extending to all interests, and to all classes of
the people.  There is no privileged class, no excluded class.
The people are the nation, and the nation governs itself.
With trivial exceptions, the elective firanchise beloings to
the whole body of fiee citizens, without distinction. The
principle of representation, is we have already seen, is indeed recognized in other countries, especially in England;
but in the constitution of the United States we find it,
for the first time in history, futlly and fairly carried out, and
made the foundation of free government. It is only in
this country that, at this moment indeed, a genuine representation of the people exists.
Relation of the several States to the Gecer(tl Government. -Within certain limits, the powers of government
are exercised by the respective states within themselves;
beyond these limits, the power is vested in the general government. The relation of the several states, therefore, to
the general governhnent, is not that of so many independent communities united for certain purposes in one confederation. The constitution is more than a compact between
independent powers: it is a union of the people, as a
266 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
whole, into one nation and one government. Those pow
ers and offices which more properly belong to the nation,
as such, - as, for example, the treaty-making power, the
declaring of peace and war, the coining of money, the
regulation of revenues and the postal service, the regulation of commerce, and other like powers of a general nature,-are under the control of the general government;
while, in other matters, each state administers its own
affairs, independent of all others.
The constitutions of the several states, and that of the
United States, must therefore be viewed in connection, as
parts of one system, in order to a complete and just conception of our government as a whole.
Distribution of Powers. - The  constitutions of the
several states, and that of the United States, are in general
modelled on the same plan, -comprising, as their essential
features, a legislative authority vested in two houses, and
an executive, with prescribed and definite powers;-all
chosen, either by the people directly, or through their representatives.
In the national government, the legislative body-a Congress, as it is termed -is composed of a Senate, and House
of Representatives; the former elected for the telm of six
years, by the legislatures of the several states, two for each
state; the latter chosen by the people directly, every two
years- the number varying according to the population
of each state. The Executive, whose term of office is four
years, is chosen by electors appointed for the purpose, as
the respective state legislatures may direct.
All bills for revenue must originate in the house of representatives.  All cases of impeachment of public officers
must be tried by the senate. Every bill passed by the
senate and house of representatives must be submitted to,
267 
VARIOUS FORMS
and approved by the executive, before it becomes a law.
In case he refuses his ai)pIroval and signature, it is returned,
with his objections, in writing, to the house firom which it
originated; and if, upon reconsideration, it is still approved
by two-thirds of the house, it is then sent to the other
house, and if passed by twothirds of that also, it then
becomes a law, irrespective of the presidential veto.
Congress has power to levy taxes, duties, etc.; to borrow
money; to regulate commerce with foreign nations, and
between the several states; to raise and support armies,
and provide a navy; to organize the Supreme Court, and
appoint tribunals inferior to the same; to punish treason,
piracy, and offences against the laws of nations; to coin
money, and establish post-offices and post-routes; to make
all needful rules for the government of the territories of the
United States; to admit new states to the Union, and to
propose amendments to the constitution by vote of twothirds of both houses,-such amendments to be ratified by
the legislatures, or by conventions called for the purpose,
in three-fourths of the states.
Besides the negative power already mentioned, the executive, by consent of the senate, may make treaties, and
appoint ambassadors, and the principal officers of the government. A pardoning power is also lodged in his hands.
Neither congress nor the executive has any power to interfere with, or prevent, the largest freedom of speech, and
of the press, nor the utmost liberty of religious belief and
worship.
Points of Contrast. - If one were asked to point out
the essential advantages of this constitution over those of
other countries, - as, for exampl)le, of England, or of the
ancient republics,-the limited outline already given would
furnish an answer.  In no other country, ancient or mod
-268 
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
ern, will he find the great principle of pol)lular representation, which underlies all free government, so filly carried
out, and completely embodied into the whole structure of
g,overnment; in almost no other, such unlimited freedom
of speech, and the press; ill no other, such entire absence
of all church, or other religious establishments, prescribed
by law-such entire freedom of all men to do as they please
in matters of religious belief and worship; in no other,
such entire exemption from military establishments, and
a standing army; in no other, the rights of citizens, without distinction of persons and classes, so fully and effect
ually secured.
e's8ume. -We have, in the preceding pages, as was proposed, passed in brief review the leading features of some
of the more prominent forms of government, as developed
among the chief historic nations of ancient and modern
times. Everywhere we find the three great elements of all
government - monarchy, aristocracy, democracy - more or
less fully developed, more or less in conflict with each
other, more or less checking and balancing each the
other. We find.the simplicity and unity of patriarchal
rule- the germ, doubtless, whence all civil governments
originally sprang- tending naturally to the concentration
of power ill the hands of one; in other words, to monarchy:
and this we find the predominant element, as we might
expect, in the earlier and oriental governments. As we
pass on down the line of nations and of ages, we.find this
monarchical power more and more limited and circumscribed by the power of chiefs and nobles; the aristocratic
element thrusting itself into prominence; at times displacing even the kingly power altogether, as in Sparta, and the
Roman Republic. In the progress of time, the popular will
learns its strength, and asserts its rights; the democratio
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269 
VARIOUS FORMS
element comes into view as an imnportant factor; wages, for
a time, unequal strife with the antagonist forces of kingly
and aristocratic power; gains for itself, in the end, important rights and privileges, as in the long-continued struggle
between the plebeian and patrician classes in Romne; and,
finally triumphant, secures for itself charters, and constitutions, and laws, guarding forever its liberties against all
aggression, as in England.
One thing is noticeable in this brief outline of the history of civil government, - the entire absence of that
most important feature of all fi'ee governments - the
representative principle -in all the ancient systems, with
the exception, perhaps, of the IIebrew; and even in that,
the principle, if recognized, was not very clearly define(d.
The systems of Solon and of Lycurgus are ignoralnt of it.
In Rome, it was the very thing wanting to secure the
rights of the people, and put an end to the incessant conflicts of plebeian and patrician factions. It is only in the
history of the English constitution that we find this great
principle first distinctly brought forward, as the basis of
just legislation.
Nor can I forbear to mention yet another thing,- the
close resemblance, in many respects, between the ancient
Hebrew Commonwealth and our own. The Institutes of
Moses give us the first truly free and republican state, of
which history retains any record.  Ages passed away before another appeared worthy to be compared with that,
ages of conflict and turmoil, and manifold but too often
filtile experiments. Not firom Athens, Rome, or Sparta,
have we derived the essential principles of our constittution. The cradle of American liberty was rocked, not in
ancient Greece, or sunny Italy, but in the deserts of Ara
bia, and at the fi'owning base of Horeb.
270 
DUTIES TO TIlE STATE.
CHAPTER III.
DUTIES OF THE SUBJECT TO TiHE STATE.
WE have already defined the state to be any community dwelling together, and organized for the  purpose
of civil government. We have found it, as an institution,
closely analogous to, and probably originating in, the system of parental government in the family; we have seen
it to be founded, immediately and primarily, on the consent of the governed, regarded as contracting parties, freely
entering into and abiding by certain arrangements for the
general good; mediately and ultimately, on the social nature of man, and so, on the will of God, as the author
of that nature. The way is thus prepared for the consideration, in the present chapter, of the duties which this
relation imposes upon the subject, or citizen, to the state
of which he is a member, and the government under which
he lives.
These duties are various; prominent among which may
be named the duty to respect and honor, to obey, to support, and to defend the government whose protection he
enjoys.
1. RESPECT. -It is incumbent on every citizen to respect
and Aotoor the state and its constituted authorities, -to
treat with becoming deference its laws, its established
forms  and usages, its magistrates  and officers, whether
executive, legislative, or judiciary. It is only through
these, its laws, its usages, its constituted authorities, that
the state, as such, comes into practical relation to the citizen, as such. To honor these, is to honor the state; to dis
271 
DUTIES OF THE SUBJECT
honor these, is to cast contempt upon the whole institution
and fabric of civil government.
These laws, forms, and constituted authorities, demand
respect, as being in themselves the expression of the popular
will, and the popular sovereignty.  That will and sovereign
power, find their material embodiment and expression in
these forms, just as the thought, or feeling, that agitate and
lie hidden in the breast, find their utterance and expression
in the spoken word. The laws of the state, its established
usages and institutions, its appointed officers, are to me
the visible representation and the uttered voice of the
state itself. I am bound to respect them, as I respect the
majesty and collected wish and power of the whole people.
If it is fit and proper that I should respect and honor any
individual man, as such, and for what he is in lhimself, much
more that I should honor the collective wisdom and dignity and worth of the whole nation, -that is, the coinstitution, laws, and officers, which represent and embody
these.
Especially is this duty incumbent on those who live
under a free and republican-government. There is, if
I mistake not, in the very nature of such institutions,
that which makes it the special and imperative duty of
their subjects to cherish towards them sentiments of respect. A firee, and especially a republican government,
is peculiarly exposed to danger, from the prevalence of
erroneous views and sentiments among the people; peculiarly dependent  on their respect, and earnest, honest
attachment.  In a monarchical, and especially a despotic
government, there is comparatively little danger from this
source. There are elements of power in such a government which can command, if not the love, at least the
respect of the subjects. The pomp of royalty; the splendor
of the throne; the power of military forces; the prestige
272 
TO THE STATE.
of kingly birth and name; the associations of the past, and
the visible majesty and strength of the present,- these all
speak to the senses of the common mass, to the dullest
understanding, and make themselves respected and feared.
In a republican state, these elements are wanting. There
is no royalty; no splendor of court and throne; no ancestral honors; no regal dignity of birth and lineage; no
standing army, to enforce obedience and command respect.
The foundation of everyfree government is laid inI the
hearts of the people.  The pillars of the republican state
are the virtue, intelligence, and loyalty of her sons. She
is strong only as they stand around her in their united
strength - reverent, filial, and firm in her defence.  When
they become disaffected and disloyal, the state is in peril;
when they withdraw their respect and confidence, it falls;
- the fair fabric, reared with so much care, and treasure,
and toil, - the goodly temple of liberty, - lies in ruins.
No accumulation of physical resources can save it; no multiplied strength of numbers, and of sinewy arms, or of military weapons, can save it from such a fate, when once the
respect and attachment of the people for their civil institutions is gone. The love of law and order, and of our own
forms of government, as such, - this is our strength, our
safety, our right. arm of defence. A despotism, or limited
monarchy,- almost any other form of government,- may
continue to subsist without this element; a republic, never.
2. OBEDIENCE. -One of the first and most imperative
duties of the citizen to the state of which he is a member,
is to obey its just laws and requirements. Whatever reasons there are for the existence of the state, and of such a
thing as civil government, be those reasons more or less
numerous and weighty, the same, and with equal force,
are to be urged in favor of obedience to that government,
0.73 
DUTIES OF THE SUBJECT
within its just bounds. Not to obey, is virtually to annul,
and abolish, both law, and the authority that makes law.
Every citizen is bound to submit to the civil authority,
then, because, in the first place, the public good requires
it. Society cannot prosper, nor even long exist, without
government.  No community can dwell together in harmony without the recognized principle of law to regulate
its movements, and balance its otherwise conflicting interests. As well dispense with gravitation in the physical
world, and expect mountains and seas and all things to keep
fast their places, as with law in the moral world, and expect human affairs to move on harmoniously and in order.
This is sufficiently attested by the experience of all
times; by the falct that no community is known to exist
on the face of the caitl, entirely without any principle
of law, or any form  of government; by the universally
observed truth, that in any conlmmulnity, just in proportion
as the arm of state is inert and( iiiefficient, erimne prevails,
injustice abounds, the best interests of the whole people
sliffc r.
A(i(itional Reason. - In every firee government, the citizen is under an additional obligation to obey the laws and
uphold the institutions of his country, fiom the fact that
those laws and institutions are the expressed wish and choice
of the whole )people. This circumstance gives them additioiial authority. Every individual is under obligation to respect the wishes and the rights of the whole body, of which
hle is a member, and to submit to those rules and requisitions which the collective wisdom and will of the whole
body have appointed. Nations may be independent of each
otlher, to sonie extent; but not so with individuals dwelling
together in the same community.  But, sup)pose I am dissatisfied with existing arrangements: what is mny remnedy?
I have the right, in that case, to do all I can, peaceably, to
274 
TO THE STATE.
effect a change in those arrangements, and in the public
opinion that sustains them. This is my undoubted privilege.  But I have no right, simply because the existing
laws and government do not suit my notions of what
the laws and government should be, to cast off all allegiance, and refuse submission to them; for this is to say,
the people shall not rule. When the voice of the millions,
rising in majesty, is heard to say, "Let such things, such
rules, such rulers be," it is not for the individual voice to
say, "No, they shall not be."  This is a principle, however,
which applies only to such governments as are inl reality
the choice and will, exp)ressed, or implied, of the people
governed. When the laws and rulers are not of the people's making, but imposed upon them by arbitrary power,
the duty of submission must turn upon other considerations.
I find, then, that my duty to my fellow-citizens, and my
own, no less than the public good, require of me obedience
to civil authority. It might be added that, inasmuch as
I have enjoyed for a considerable time the inestimable
advantages of civil society and a good government, I am
bound in gratitude to do what I can to sustain and uphold
the same, as but a reasonable return for favors received;
and fuirthermore, that by living under this system, and
taking some part, it may be, as a citizen, in its affairs, I
have in a manner, tacitly, but virtually, pledged myself to
such a course.
A Qttestio~t. - But, here it may be asked, is the obedience of the subject to be unconditional and unqualified?
is he to obey any and all laws and requirements, whatever they may be?  This I cannot affirm.  I have spoken
of the duty of obedience only to such laws as are just
and rig,lt; such as do not exceed the proper province and
pVrerogative of the state; such as do notecome clearly into
275 
DUTIES OF THE SUBJECT
conflict with that revealed will of God, which is above all
human legislation, and to which alone we are ultimately
accountable. Whatever enactment of human authority
conflicts with this prior and supreme law, carries with it,
at the bar of conscience, no power of obligation - becomes to every intelligent and devout mind, so soon as it
is perceived to be contrary to the divine will, null and
void. There can be no question on this point, which will
not lead to practical atheism, to the deposing the Supreme
Ruler from the throne of the universe, and placing thereon the merely human lawgiver and magistrate instead.
When the state to which I hold allegiance so far forgets
itself as to step beyond its proper province, and command
what it has no right to command, my obligation ceases;
when it goes further even than this, and commands what
God has forbidden, its commands must be disregarded.
In the former case, I may obey or not, as I please; in the
latter, I have no right to obey: obedience becomes a sin.
Further Question. - But, it may still be asked, in what
cases is resistance justifiable? Suppose the acts of government, though not, perhalps, specially in conflict with
the divine commands, are, nevertheless, arbitrary and oppressive; the service required, the taxes levied, the disposal made of the public resources, the administration of
justice, are all such as to occasion discontent among the
people; a series of systematic encroachments is made upon
the public rights, and the intention is evident to crush out
the spirit of liberty from the nation, and establish despotism in place of free institutions; -suppose such a state of
civil affairs to occur in any country, —.a condition of
things which, unfortunately, is of too frequent occurrence
in the history of the world, -are the people, in such a
case, under obligation still to yield obedience?  I reply,
276 
TO THE STATE.
that, according to the doctrine maintained in the previous
chapter, government exists for the good of the governed:
not the people for the king, the governor, the magistrate;
but king, governor, magistrate, for the people: not society
for the law, but the law for society. The end of law and
government is the public welfare,- that, and that only.
And when, in any case, the existing system no longer
subserves this end; when the public good is not promoted,
but hindered by it; when either the public freedom or the
public virtue, or both, are in danger firom the arm that is
appointed to protect them, -then it may become not only
the right, but the duty of the people, to resist'the power
that proves itself false and recreant to its trust, and to
effect a change of government.
The right to such resistance and change becomes still
more apparent, if we adopt the view, maintained in the
previous chapter, that government is, in its essential nature, a species of contract between the different members
of the body politic.  If this be so, then surely, when, by
any dishonesty or negligence of any of the parties to this
engagement, the essential terms and conditions of the
contract are violated, and the end which it was designed
to accomplish is no longer secured, they who make the
contract have the right to unmake it, or change it as they
like.
Objection. - It may be said, this leaves too wide a door
for faction and revolution to come in, encourages discontent, and endangers the stability of all government. Dr.
Paley has urged this objection as of fi)orce against the theory of social compact; he regards that theory of the nature of government as leading, in this way, to dangerous
conclusions. That the principle now stated is one liable
to abuse, must be confessed; but what principle, it maiy
be replied, that we could substitute in its place, would be
24
277 
DUTIES OF THE SUBJECT
less so.  Shall we, then, deny to the people the right,
under any circumstances, of resistance and of revolution?
Shall we say it is always the duty of the subject to sub mit to government, no matter how oppressive and tyran nical, how unjust, or even how impious?  Does the meie
fact that a corrupt and tyrannical government exists, give
it the right always to exist?
This will hardly be maintained, even by the most con servative theorist.  Indceed, Dr. Paley himself, when  he
comes to consider the practical question of the right of
resistance, goes quite as far as the most earnest advocate
of popular rights would care to go in this direction. Regarding government, as he does, to be purely a matter
of expediency, and not of the nature of a social contract,
the justice of every particular case of resistance, he affirms,
"is reduced to a computation of the quantity of the danger and grievance on the one side, and of the probability
and expense of redressing it on the other."
"But who shall judge of this?" he continues.   "We
answer,'Every man for himself'  In contentions between
the sovereign and the stubject, the parties acknowledge
no common arbitrator; and it would be absurd to refer
the decision to those, whose conduct has provoked the
question, and whose own interest, authority, and fate, are
immediately concerned in it."
Indeed, Dr. Paley claims it as a special advantage of
the doctrine of expediency over that of all implied compacts and covenants, of whatsoever sort, that it furnishes
an easy answer to the question, under what circumstances
resistance a,nd revolution are allowable.   He states the
following, among other inferences from that doctrine, bearing upon the present question: "It may be as much a
cdtty, at one time, to resist government, as it is, at another,
to obey it; to wit, whenever more advantage will, in our
278 
TO THE STATE.
opinion, accrue to the community from resistance, than
mischief."
"The lawfulness of resistance, or the lawfulness of a
revolt, does not depend alone upon the grievance which
is sustained or feared, but also upon the probable expense
and event of the contest."
And again: "No usage, law, or authority whatever, is
so binding, that it need or ought to be continued, when
it may be changed with advantage to the community."
This is surely sufficiently explicit, and sufficiently revolutionary.  It is difficult to see how the doctrine of a
social compact could lead to results more thoroughgoing,
and more radical, than these. With the general doctrine
here advanced, that resistance is, at times, a duty, I fully
agree; and also that it must be left with the people to
decide when the proper time has come for such resistance.
But that, in deciding this important point, we have only,
or chiefly, to take into account the expense, and the probable issue of the contest, as weighed against the amount
of grievance, admits of question. There may be other
and more important considerations, as it seems to me, than
even these; and I can conceive of cases, not of improbable occurrence, in which resistance would be the duty of
the people, or the citizen, against the most poweiful odds,
and with but the slightest prospect of success.
The Rule and the Exception.- It must be borne in
mind, however, in all discussions of this subject, that the
general duty of the subject is obedience, not resistance;
that the latter is the exception, the former the rule; and
that, while cases may occur which shall render the exception justifiable, a steady adherence to the rule is, under
ordinary circumstances, the only wise and safe course.
There is certainly more danger, at least in any free and
279 
DUTIES OF THIE- SUBJECT
intelligent community, that the people, jealous of their
rights, and forgetful of their obligations, will be lacking
in the duty of obedience to constituted authority, than
that they will be wanting in the spirit of manly resistance
o
to unjust and arbitrary rule.  The tendency, it must be
confessed, in our own  country, at the present time, is
rather to a want than to an excess of reverence for and
loyalty to established institutions and forms of government, and especially for that which is the foundation of
all, the constitution.
Obedience enjoined in Scriptitre. -The word of God
is very explicit on this point. We are directed to submnit
ourselves "to every ordinance of man for the Lo(rd's sake;
whether it be to the king, as supreme, or unto governors,
as unto them that are sent by him for the punishment of
evil-doers, and for the praise of them that do well.  For
so is the will of God," etc. (1 Peter ii. 13-15).   And
still more explicitly: "Let every soul be subject unto the
higher powers. For there is no power but of God: the
powers that be are ordained of God. Whosoever, therefore, resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God;
and they that resist shall receive to themselves damnation.
For rulers are not a terror to good( works, but to the evil.
Wilt thou then not be af,lai( of the power? do that which
is good, and thou shalt have praise of the same; for he is
the minister of God to thee for good. But if thou do
that which is evil, be afi'aid; for he beareth not the sword
in vain; for he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil.   Wherefore, ye
must needs be subject not only for wra,tl, but also for
conscience' sake.  For, for this cause, pay you tribute
also; for they are God's ministers, attending continually
upon this very thing.   Render, therefore, to all their
280 
TO THE STATE.
dues, -tribute to whom tribute is due, custom to whom
custom, fear to whom fear, honor to whom honor" (Rom.
xiii. 1-7).
These passages might seem, at first sight, to teach the
doctrine of unlimited and passive obedience. Such, I
think, cannot be the intention of the sacred writers; but
rather, as Paley justly remarks, to set forth the duty of
obedience to civil government, without describing the
extent of it.
They place before the Christian disciple the duty of submission and obedience, not to this or that particular form
of government, but to the established authority of the
land in which he dwells. They inculcate this duty in the
same way, and on the same ground, as the duty of obedidience to parental authority in the family. It was no part
of the object of the writers, in these passages, to point out
exceptions, but only to enforce the rule. We are not to
infer from this, however, that in all cases whatsoever obedience is a duty, and resistance a sin. In the words of an
able, but cautious and conservative writer, -Whewell,"These passages do not at all show that in any state it
may not be the duty of the powers that be to alter the
laws, to appoint new magistrates, new magistracies, and
the like; and allowable in extreme cases, in cases of necessity, to alter the constitution of the country, or to depose
the sovereign."
3. SUPPORT AND DEFENCE. -To obey, is not the whole
duty of the citizen. The civil authority is to be maintai           ned by          needful supplies, and, if need be, defended
against foreign aggression. To this end, taxes may justly
be levied, whether directly, or in the shape of duties imposed            on articles of co mmerce; and to all such regulations looking to the necessary fiscal revenues of the gov                           24*
281 
DUTIES OF THE SUBJECT
ernment, the citizen ought willingly to submit. The state
cannot exist for any length of time, nor the affiairs of government be administered, without resources.  In some
form, its expenses must be provided for by the citizens; and
in whatever mode this may be done, it is the duty of every
man to bear his fair proportion of the expense. Evasion
of the laws which regulate this matter, is as really dishonorable, and immoral, as evasion of any laws respecting
property.  To cheat the government, is as really a fraud as
to cheat a private person.  It is even a greater dishonesty,
and a more serious crime, inasmuch as the rights of the
state are of more dignity and importance than those of
the individual. When my dishonesty goes no further
than to take the property-of my neighbor, I defraud one
man only; whien it extends to the property of government, I defraud the whole community. Tribute to whom
tribute is due, is the rule of the sacred Scriptures.  We
are to render unto Caesar the things that are Cesar's, no
less than to God the things that are God's.
Not less is it the duty of the citizen to defend the state,
if need be, from personal violence. In repelling aggression
from without, or sustaining, by personal service, civil or
military, the authority of government against sedition and
rebellion,- against lawlessness and anarchy within its own
borders, - the aid of the citizen may be necessary. The
good and true citizen, who understands well what he owes
to himself, and to society, will never hesitate in such an
emergency. At the call of his country, in defence of law
and justice, in defence of the state to which he owes allegiance, he will be ready to sacrifice, if need be, all personal
considerations of ease, safety, or profit, and lay upon the
altar of freedom and of the right, himself and whatever
he has.
282 
DUTIES OF THE STATE.
CHAPTER IV.
DUTIES OF TIlE STATE TO ITS SUBJECTS.
IT is to be borne in mind that the state, as already de.
fined, is simply a society or community, dwelling together
in the some territory, and organized for purposes of government.  When we inquire, then, for the duties of the
state to its subjects, we are simply inquiring what duties
the whole society, or the aggregate of individuals, as thus
organized, owes to each of its members. To this, a plain
and obviously correct reply, comprehensive of all, is this:
It is the (lty of' the state to protect every one of its subjects in all his proper righyts; in other words, to do what
it virtually engages and promises to do, by the terms of
its constitution, or social compact.
The question, What are the proper rights of the subject?
may admit of various opinions. They may be more or
less expressly guaranteed to him in the laws and constitution of his country; and in different states these may vary.
There can be no question, however, as to the general position that it is the duty of the state to carry out and fulfill
the specific objects for which it was created.  Whatever is
necessary to secure tihe great ends for which it exists,whatever is necessary for the highest good of all,- this it
has the right to do, and ought to do. This is a duty
which it owes to the whole, and to each-individual.
General Sphere of State Authority. -Within the lim.ts now specified, the authority of the state is complete and
supreme.  So far as the constitution allows, and the public
good requires, it may coerce, restrain, and punish; may
impose taxes; regulate the tenure and transmission of
property; promote industry, education, religion; declare
283 
DUTIES OF THE STAT-E
war; personally, it may, in all suitable ways, secure to
each citizen the enjoyment of the highest freedom consistent with the freedom and rights of others.   These, in
general, are its rights and duties.
Beyond the limits now indicated, the state is out of its
proper sphere. It has to do with its subjects, not as men,
but as citizens. Its end and aim, as a state, are single,that is, to secure the liberty and the rights of all its mlembers. It is wholly a political organization. With the intellectual elevation and culture, the moral character, the
religious opinions, the personal prosperity and happiness
of its subjects, -except so far as these are related to the
one specific end, the civil liberty and rights of the whole,it has no direct concern. It desires and promnotes all these
things, not as ends, but only as means to an end. As
such, they come properly within its cognizance, and are of
the highest moment in its councils and consideration.
Even within these limits the state has no right to
demand impossibilities; nor yet, in securing its olb)ject, to
legislate against the principles of moral right, or against
the known will of God. When it oversteps, or comes into
collision with these immutable and eternal principles, its
authority ceases, its sceptre is broken - the sword is
stricken from its hand, and the crown from its brow.
We shall obtain a clearer and more definite view of the
proper duties of the state with respect to its own rights, if
we consider specifically some of the more important objects which fall directly, or indirectly, within its sphere of
action, -among which may be included right of taxation;
prohibitory laws; personal freedom of thought, speech, and
action; prevention and punishment of crime; promotion of
industry, in its various branches; education, and religion.
- 1. TAXEs.- It is the duty of the state to sustain itself,
284., 
TO ITS SUBJECTS.
and to take whatever measures are necessary in order to
this. For this purpose, it has the right to impose taxes and
imposts, so far Ias may be necessary for its own support.
The manner in which its revenues shall be raised, whether
by direct tax, or by a system of duties on exports, or on
imports, or in any other mode, and also the amount of r,evenue that shlall be thus granted, are matters which may be
safely left to the wisdom and discretion of each state to
determine for itself.  In no case, however, has the state a
right to levy taxes that are oppressive and severe, or to
distribute the burden of theni unequally and unjustly upon
any class or portion of the community. The tax ought,
moreover, to be strictly for peblic, and not for private ends;
and the persons thus taxed have the right to be in some
way represented in the state. In tlhe case of non-residents,
or foreigners, and also of widows, and unmarried women
possessing property within the state, the tax may perhaps
be justly required, without such representation, on the
ground of a fair equivalent for the protection of the
property.
2. PROHIBITORY LAws.-It is the duty of the state to
prohibit and prevent whatever is injurious to the public
welfaire, whether directly, as affecting the civil rights and
liberties, or indirectly, as affecting the health, morals, or
lives of the community. Its office is to guard all these interests and rights against encroachment; and in order to
this, it must, if needful, enact and enforce laws prohibitory
and sanitary.  No member of society has a right to pursue
any calling or profession, or make any use of his property,
that shall put in jeopardy the safety, the property, the lives,
of others. Neither his property, nor even his life, is his
own in any such sense as that; and when, disregarding the
rights and interests of others, he persists in that which is
285 
DUTIES OF THE STATE
to the common injury, the state, through its proper officers,
may  and ought to restrain him.  This extends to all
branches of manufacture and of trade that may be of hlirt'
ful tendency; to gaming-houses, and all establishments
of vice and dissipation; to immoral publications; to wlihtever is injurious to public peace and virtue -to the health,
happiness, and freedom of society.  It embraces, also, such
laws and regulations as may be for the health and safety of
town or city in time of pestilence or prevailing disease.
All these are matters of the highest importance to the
public good, and they are of such a nature as to require
the  attention  and  energy  of  the  public  authorities.
Merely private effort cannot accomplish, in most cases, the
end that is desired.  Even if individuals of sufficient benevolence and wisdom could be found to undertake such
measures, private interests would almost inevitably conme
into collision with any plans they might adopt. The strong
arm and authority of the state are necessary in all such
undertakings.
3. Personal Freedom. -The state ought to leave the
individual firee to do anything not inconsistent with the
general good. It ought not only to abstain in its own
transactions from whatever would interfere with this fieedom of the citizen, but it ought to secure to him this
freedom, and protect him in it, so far as regards his relation to other persons. It has no right to deprive him, or to
allow him to be deprived by others, of personal liberty,
unless for crime, or insanity, or the like cause, which would
render his going at large dangerous to the commulnity.
On the same principle, it ought not to deprive him of the
privilege of laboring at whatever honest employment or
profession he chooses; nor to throw obstacles in the way
of his changing his trade or profession, if he is disposed to
286 
TO ITS SUBJECTS.
try some other. These are matters which should be left
open to the choice of the citizen, and with which government has no right to interfere.
Nor has the state a right to prevent the citizen from
changing his place of residence, or even to throw obstacles
in the way of his leaving the country altogether, and
migrating to some other land, if he sees fit. This power
is exercised by many of the arbitrary governments of the
Old World, but it is a despotic and unjust power.  The
state has no right to say to its subjects, "You must live
here, and not elsewhere."
The law of personal liberty applies also to freedom of
speech, and of the press.  These are undoubted rights of
the citizen within the limits already indicated. I have no
right, indeed, to say or to publish that which will be to the
injury of others, in respect to business, social standing, or
moral character; and whatever of this sort one is disposed
to utter, or to print, that shall tend to the public detriment,
it is the duty of the civil authority to forbid and prevent
the same. Aside from this necessary restriction, it is the
duty of the state to ensure and maintain the utmost liberty
of thought, speech, and action, to its subjects.
4. ENCOURAGEMENT OF INDUSTRY. -It is the duty of
the state to foster and encourage every branch of honest
industry. Much may be done by the public authority to
this end. Agriculture, commerce, manufactures, the mechanic and the liberal arts, -every pursuit, indeed, in which
men -engage, may be materially aided, or seriously embarrassed, by the action of government. Wise or unwise legislation has much to do with the prosperity of the country
in all branches of industry.  It is the duty of government,
by all suitable and proper methods, to encourage and aid
every industrial pursuit which is not clearly incompatible
287 
DUTIES OF TIIE STATE
with the public welfare. It should, at least, throw no ohb
stacles in the way of an honest calling. It ought to administer its affairs with impartial and even-handed justice,
toward all sections of the country, and all the various pursuits and conflicting interests of the same, fatvoriing no one
at the expense of the others; but, by wise and impartial
legislation, extending, so far as possible, to all, the utmost
facilities and encouragements. It should never interfere
with private enterprise, nor seek to turn the trade and indlustry of the country in any other than the natural channels, for political or party purposes. In all such measures
and attempts, it is clearly out of its proper sphere.
There are, moreover, certain great public improvements,
which cannot well be carried on by individual enterprise,
and which, therefore, require the aid of government. Harbors may be improved, light-houses constructed, rivers
rendered navigable, and various works of great public
benefit be set on foot, which would be either too arduous,
or two little remunerative, for private capital and enterprise
to undertake. It is maintained, however, by many, and
apparently with justice, that in no case ought works of
this character to be undertaken by the state, where private
or corporate action is available; inasmuch as the public
resources may be more profitably employed in other ways;
and inasmuch, also, as these very enterprises, when not too
arduous to be undertaken by private capitalists, will be
much more economically managed by individual enterprise
than by the state.
5. PREVENTION AND PUNISHMENT OF CRIME. - This
is one of the most important duties devolving upon the
state.  WVhether we regard civil government as founded
in expediency, or the divine will, or in social compact, or
288 
TO ITS SUBJECTS.
as resting on all these combined, in either case there rests
lupon it, as a first and(] most imperative obligation, the duty
of protecting its subjects against the lawlessness and violence  that would otherwise endanger person, property,
and life.  This is one of the chief objects to be secured
by the institution of civil government -one of the chief
ends for which it exists.  For this purpose laws are eliacted, specifying and forbidding all violation of the rights
of othei's.  WVhatevei is thus forbidden, becomes, in the
eye of the law, a cinme.  But law without sanctions or
penalties annexed, is no law, but only counsel, and more
or less 1plausible advice.  It becomes law only when, in
addition to the precept, there is affixed a penalty for transgression.  And the value of the law depends mainly on
two things, - its inherent rightness or justice as precei)t
or p)rollibition, and also the firmness and certainty with
whlichl its sanctions are enforced.  If either of these conditions fitil, it becomes a virtual nullity.
To  cdll iii question, then, the right of government to
punish crime, is virtually to call in question its right to
exist.   Take away this, and society relapses into barbarism- every man taking the defence of his rights into his
own hand.
But, aside from the general view now presented, there
are two or three points requiring more particular consideration, such as the proper end of punishment, its proper
roche andcl degree of severity, and the amount of evidence
necessary to convict of crime.
Ende of Pitiishmeit.- And first, as to the proper end
of human p)unishiment.   What is the object in view, in
the infliction of Ipunislhment for crime?  Is it thle satisfaction of justice, which demands the punishment of the
offender as, in some sense, a compensation for the crime?
25
289 
DUTIES OF THE STATE
Or, is it disciplinary, aiming at the reformation of the
offender? Or, is it simply with a view to prevent ftittil-e
offences, by impressing the public mind with a just and(
salutary fear of the consequences of evil-doing?   licre
are three different explanations, or theories, of the proper
end of human punishment; the first makes it retributive,
the second reformnatory, the third preventive.
At the hands of a strictly righteous God, guilt is expeeted to receive, and justice demands that it should
receive, punishment; and thle penalty iiiiist be ill prolportion to the guilt.  Siuch penalty, ol suffering inflicted on
account of guilt, is termed retributive.
It is not, however, on this principle that humlan govemnments proceed. The object of society, in the infliction
of punishment, is not to satisfy the abstract demands (of
justice; nor yet is it to vindicate the injured sovereignty
of the law; nor to make amends for the mischief done,for that is often irreparable, and the punishment of the
offender has no tendency to make good the injury already
committed. Punishment then, as inflicted by human gov
ernments, is not in its nature retributive.
Much less is it reformative in its character and design
The end for which punishment is inflicted is not the repentance and reformation of the criminal, however desirable that may be.  It is not for this purpose that govern
ment exists. It has a higher end than the discipline of
undividuals.   There are other influences and institutions
that look to that, and exist for that. Government has to
do, not with the reformation and moral culture of the
individual, but with the public welfare, and the publi(t
freedom; and these may often require that the benefit of
the individual who has committed the crime should be
disregarded, for the sake of the public benefit. Imprisonment, confiscation of property, or death, nmay be of no ben
290 
TO ITS SUBJECTS.
efit personally to him, but quite the reverse; that is not
the question; there are higher ends and interests to be
promoted, than his own good.   Were it otherwise, the
more hardened and depraved the criminal, the less reason
for his punishment, since the less prospect of his reform:.
tion. On this principle, moreover, our prisons and penitentiaries, our courts of justice, and all the machinery of
government, are but so many benevolent and charitable
institutions, and are to be ranked in the same category
with sabbath schools and missionary operations. This is
certainly a very inadequate idea of the nature of civil
government, and of the object of legal sanctions. Punishment is not reformative.
The simple reason why society inflicts punishment on
those who disturb its peace, is, that it finds it necessary to
do so for its own safety, in the prevention of crime.  It
injficts pen2alty upon the evil-doer, because it has threate?,ed to do so.  It threatens penalty, because, without such
declaration, lawt would be inoperative and null.  It makes
law, because, without it, there were no government, and
no such thing as society. If there be government at all,
there must be law; if law, there must be legal sanctions;
and if sanctions, then they must be rigidly enforced.  The
same reasons, then, which make civil government a necessity, make punishment a necessity,- i.e., the safety of the
community, and the prevention of crime.
Not only is the criminal himself, or he who is already
disposed to transgress, deterred fiom so doing by the cert:iiity that, if detected, he will suffer the inevitable penalty and just desert of his offences, but by every example
of this sort a salutary fear is awakened in other minds, by
perceiving the ruinous consequences of a course of crime.
By all such influences is society the gainer; nor is it pos.
291 
DUTIE.S OF TIIE STATE
sible to dispense with thlese influences, and still conserve
the peace and( welfare of society.
Mocle ancd -Degree of PwzisAmezt. - The end for which
punishment is inflicted goes fir to determine the li,ropl)er
mode and degree of its infliction.  If the guilt of the
offender be the motive for punishment, or the satisfiction
of justice the end in view, then the punishment should
be, of course, in proportion to the guilt. The simple inquiry that should regulate the whole proceeding should
be: what, and how much, does the criminal deserve to
suffer.  And  this mighlt seem to be the just and true
mode of procedure.  A  little observation, however, will
be sufficient to convince any one that such is not the
principle on which civil government admilnisters its penal
sanctions.   The most guilty, and those most  deserving
of punishment, are not always most severely punished.
Reference is had, not so much to the degree of guilt in
the offender, as to the nature of the offence, the danger
of its repetition, the difficulty of detecting and of preventing it, and the like circumstances.   The  man who
betrays a solemn trust confided to him, or who habitually
exercises unkindness and severity in his family governminent, or who refiuses an act of benevolence, to save human life, or to relieve human suffering, may be really more
guilty, or more deserving of )punishment, so far as strict
justice is concerned, than he whilo counterfeits a bank note,
or steals to satisfy the cravings of hunger.  But for the
forinei, law has no penalty; for the lattcr, a severe one.
The factcility with which any crime may be committed,
and the consequent difliculty, and at the same time necessity, of piev-enting it, are the considerations chiefly in view
in the regulation and distribution of punishment.  The
end of human government, of law, and of penal  sanc
0.92 
TO ITS SUBJECTS.
tions being one and the same, -  i. e., the l)lotection of the
community, and the prevention of crime,- whl:lteNver teIlIds
most directly to this end, is the measure mnost likely to be
adopted, alnd that rightly. If the end( can be accomplislle(,
thl.t is, the crime prevented and society protected, by solie
other means than by the punishnment of the offender, tl;eii
lunishment may be dispensed with, notwithstanding the
guilt and ill-desert of the offender in a moral point of
view. If the offence be one liable to occur at any time,
difficult of detection and of proof, and yet of great mischief to society, punishment becomes necessary as a means
of prevention; and the punishment must be more or less
severe, according as more or less may be required in order
to effect this end.  Thus, by the laws of some countries,
the stealing of a sheep, or a horse, is punished with death
-not because these crimes ire considered as involving
equal guilt with that of murder, but because, on account
of the ease with which these and the like offences can be
committed and concealed, nothing shorit of the severest
penalties seemed sufficient to deter the evil-minded firom
their commission.  This disproportion between the degree
of punishment and the degree of ill-desert, is, perhaps,
a necessary part of the imperfection of all human governments.   The supreme and omniscient Ruler and Judge,
whose eye penetrates the darkest recesses of guilt, from
whose vigilaince nothing can escape, and whose justice
will bring to certain punishment whatever crime is committed, may, and will, doubtless, graduate that punishlment according to the real guilt of the criminal.  But no
human government can do this.
Freqtiency of Puis~et- As to the frequency with
which the severest punishlments -as, for ex\aml)le, capital
punishment, or imprisonment for life, at hard labor or in
25*
293 
DUTIES OF THE STATE
solitude - should be employed, there is room for question.  It is a matter of expediency, and must be deteiiinried by careful observation. Beyond( doubt, the severest
penalties are fully within the power of civil govelrnment,
and may be justly and rightly called into requisition,
whenever they are necessary for the true purposes of
governmnent, - that is, for the safety and welfare of tile
state.   The laws of many  countries - of England, for
example -seem to me  to have  erredl, by  the too firequent use of the severest penalties; on the other hand,
our own may not improbably have erred in the other
extreme.  In the words of Dir. Hickok:  "Life itself is
not so sacred as that for which life is given; and if the
opportunity to attain the ends of human life cannot be
manintained but by the infliction of death upon such as
disturb it, the state is bound, by its mission to humanity, to inflict that extreme penalty. If the state refuse to
do this when the public sentiment demands it, the populace, in its frenzy, under the excitement of some firesh
d]eed of cruelty and blood, will take the work into its
own hands, and summarily despatch the obnoxious malefactor.  It may be argued that summary punishments
tend to make the people barbarous; but, in the one crime
of murder, it is a more important and probable opinion
that a di;suse of capital punishment will directly tend to
demoralize the public. The conviction that the murderer
deserves to die, must be met by the civil sanction, or the
very teachings and influence of the law will be to lower
the standard of pure morality, and deprave the public
sentiment, by making the life of man less sacred in the
statute-book than it is in the natural conscience."
Evidence Necessary to Conviction. - It becomes a serious, and often a difficult question, what amount of evidence
294 
TO ITS SUtBJECTS.
is roquisite to conviction.  On the one hand, there is the
d;inger that, by thle lmlist:ake or dishonesty of tlhe witness,
or the -r)eju(lice of thle jilror, thle innocent nliy be l)tltishe(l in place of the guilty; onI the otller ialld, the equal,
or even greaiter d,anger, that, by some flaw in thle evilence,
or some artifice of the pleader, the criminal, of whose guiilt
there can be no reasonable doubt in the mind of j(udge or
jury, shall be turned loose upon society, aldL thus the real
power and proper office of justice be thwarted.
It is ever to be borne in min(d, that tlhe I,evention of
crime depends not so much on the severity, as oil thle certcainty of punishment.  The laws of Englan-d, for examnle,
wvlich prescribe the penilty of death for a great number
of offences, but actually inflict it oil but a small portion of
tlhe number, seem but p)oorly calculated for the prevention
of crime, i.asmucl  as the criminal preslimes, in the first
place,- iii common with most of those  ilo meditate any
violation of thle laws, - that lie sla.ll not be detected; and
then, that, if detected(l, the extreme lp-enitlty will in lhis case
be remitted(l, as it has already been in so man.y others, and
some mil(lder punishment substituted in its place.  Were
that ilnilder penalty threatened in the first instance, and
then invariaibly (executed, the certainty of the result would
probably be more effective than the present uncertainty of
a miuch more severe infliction.
Now, nothing tends so directly to destroy all certainty
of 1)unislhmeiit, as any difficulty attending the conviction
o,f the guilty.  Wlha.tever stlands in thle way of the convic.
tion of the criminal, st(ands in the way of lhis punishment.
If such anq amount of evidence is required, in order to convictionI, ias shall in most cases be impossible, or next to
impossible, to procure, the effect is the same,as if the law,
with its penalties, were blotted firom the statute-book, and
society left unprotected against crime.
295 
DUTIES OF THE STATE
Viewed in this aspect, it admits of serious question,
whether, in our anxiety to avoid the infliction of unjust
punishment, we have not, in this country, earried to a daiigerous extreme the doctrine that the accused is entitled
to the benefit of any and every reasonable doubt of his
guilt.
There are very few, if indeed there are any cases, probably, in which the proof of guilt is so clear, and pelfectly
conclusive, as to leave no room for doubt in the mind of
any one; and yet, if any one of twelve men entertains such
doubt, however slight and unfounded it may be in reality,
conviction becomes impossible. Even in the case of positive testimony, setting aside all circumstantial evidence, as
being still more open to objection, there will always be
more or less possibility of mistake, and even of dishonesty,
on the part of the witness. Circumstances are, in fact,
often the best and most reliable witnesses. But neither
circumstantial, nor yet positive testimony, can, in most
cases, be wholly beyond doubt; and it is in the power of
a skillful pleader, - more anxious to save his client than to
secure the ends of justice,- by giving prominence to any
slight defect in the chain of evidence, and by appealing
to the conscientious scruples of the jury, and representing
in the strongest light the painfill responsibility they will
incur, if, by any mistake, they should convict and condemn
an innocent man,- it is in the power of a skillful advocate
to so play in this manner upon the fears and the scruples
of his hearers, as to secure the acquittal of those most
deserving of punishment, and of whose guilt there can be
really no reasonable doubt. Just in proportion as this
takes place, the security of life and property, and whatever
else is valuable in the community, is destroyed, and society
is thrown back into a state of lawlessness and barbarism.
But, is it not better that nine guilty men should escape,
296 
TO ITS SUBJECTS.
than that one innocent man should suffer? Of this I am
not so sure. Better for the guilty, very possibly, it may be;
whether it is better for society, admits of serious question.
It may be better that now and then an innocent man suffer,
than that the guilty should generally go unpunished. The
question amounts virtually to this: whether, as respects
the greatest crimes, it is better to have any law, and any
penalty, or to leave society to take care of itself, in the
best way it can, without any such safeguards.
6. EDUCATION.- What is the duty of the state as regards the ectucctio~, of its subjects?  We  have already
seen that the state, as such, is directly concerned only with
the civil lights and privileges of the subject, and not with
his intellectual, moral, or religious character; and that it
has to do with these latter only in so far as they may bear
upon the former, by making the man a better citizen and a
better subject.  So intimate, however, and so important is
this connection, that it can be by no means overlooked. It
is impossible that the state should reach its highest point
of prosperity, should realize the true idea of a free and
noble state, without intelligence and virtue in the community.  In proportion to the education and general intelligence of the people, in connection with their moral and
religious culture, will be the amount of liberty enjoyed;
because in this proportion will be their ability to understand, and their disposition to maintain, their rights. Neither an ignorant people, nor yet an irreligious people, are
competent for self-government.  Hence the importance to
the state of the general diffusion of knowledge among the
people, and of some system of education looking to this
end. It is almost a necessity of its own existence, that
some system of this kind should be in successful operation.
297
0 
DUTIES OF THE STATE
Hence the right and duty of the state to take measures
for this purpose.
But why, it may be asked, should the state trouble itself
in this matter?  Why may not the business of education
be safely left to the voluntary action of the people, in their
several communr ities?  This might well be, I reply, in case
there were already given a people of so much education
and general intelligence as to feel the importance of such
action; but this is more than can, in most cases, be safely
presumed.  When  education has already done its work
in the elevation of the community, it may be safely left
to such a community to provide for the intellectual culture
and training of those who come after them.   But it is for
the state to set in operation the causes which shall produce
this result; nor ought the state, under any circumstances,
to relinquish all care and control of a matter so intimately
connected with its own  permanence, and highest prosperity.
Di,ffeent Jfethods.  of Accomplishiil th/is.- The  manner in which this object can best be accomplished, will vary,
doubtless, in different states, and, to some extent, in the
same state, in different stages of its progress.  In all cases
it should be a systematic and thorough, rather than any
desultory and  sulperficial  system  of measures.   Means
should be provided for the education, and the thorough
education, of all classes of the community -the poor, as
well as the rich -in at least the common and most indispensable branches of learning.  In addition to this, colleges, and other institutions of a higher grade, should be
encouraged, and, if necessary, supported for a time, by the
state.
In order to provide and put in operation such a system
of general education, the state has the right to expend the
public aloney, or to levy a direct tax for the purpose on
298 
TO ITS SUBJECTS.
those who are to receive the benefit, or to make it obliga.
tory on each separate community to provide for.itself the
requisite means for sustaining the needed schools within
its limits; and whichever miode be ado)lted, the public has
no right to complain, or to refuse consent and hearty
cooperation.  The state has the iiglit, also, to at least a
general supervision and control of the whole educational
movement, and of each institution or school founded under
its care and patronage; it is entitled to a voice in the
selection of teachers, and of books, and in the general
manageinent and course of instruction.  It has also the
right to require attendance upon the means  provided,
when, firom the ignorance or prejudice of the community,
or fiom any other cause, the advantages thus offered are
not likely to be improved.
Possible -)isagreemett. - In thus regulating the order
and course of instruction of its schools, the state may find
itself sometimes in collision with individual opinions, a.nd
prejudices, in matters of religious belief.  One man, of pe.
culiar views, may object to the recognition of the Divine
Being in the ordinary devotional exercises of the school,
or in any of its teachings; another, to the use of the
sacred Scriptures in any form; another still, to the Protestant version of' the same.  In the solution of all such difficulties, but one rule can be recognized.  The state,-that is,
the body of the people,- acting through its constituted
authorities, has the right to decide all such matters. If
tile state be Infidel, it has the right to exclude all religious
teachings, and all reference to the Supreme Being, fioni its
schools; if it be Catholic, it may shape its educational
systeru accoridingly; if Jewish or MIohammedan, it has
still the same right; if it be none of these, but Protestant,
it has the right to use Protestant forms, and Protestant
books~ and inculcate so far as it chooses, Protestant notions,
299 
DUTIES OF' THE STATE
in its various educational establishments. It is the duty
of the individual, in such cases, to yield to the will of the
majority; or if he cannot conscientiously fall in with the
prescribed order, and with the customs of those around
him, in such matters, he should peaceably withdraw firom
all participation in the system; and this he should always
be allowed to do. But nothing is more absurd, or coIntradictory to the whole spirit and theory of civil government,
than that a small minority, often a mere handfill in the
state, should undertake to dictate to the whole people in
such matters; and no state that has a proper regard for its
own dignity, or any just conception of its rights and
duties, will for a moment allow any such interference
with its own proper prerogative.
7. RELIGION. - The duty of the state with respect to
the moral and religious condition of its subjects, is a matter of much moment, and of some considerable difficulty.
Man is not only a political, but also a religious being;
that is, he has a moral nature, as well as a social and political one; hqs hopes, and fears, and motives of action, drawn
from this source; and these are often the strongest and
most active principles of his nature.  A  man entirely uninfluenced by religious considerations is a man who does
violence to his own nature, or else that nature is entirely
and sadly perverted.
In what relation, now, shall government stand to its subjects in this matter?  How shall it treat their religious
convictions and beliefs? What position shall it assume
with respect to the moral and religious character, the
moral and religious education and training, of those who
compose the state?  Shall  it show itself quite indifferent
to the whole matter; or shall it go further, and oppose all
religious institutions, and religious culture; or, knowing
300 
TO ITS SUBJECTS.
how intiimately its own stability and prosperity depend on
the religious character and culture of the people, shall it
set itself directly about the business of pIromoting these,
by establishing religious institutions, and teaching  religiouils truths, even as it provides for the intellectual education of its subjects? These are questions of serious moment, and not altogether easy of solution.
The matter is still further complicated by the fact that
there is firequently a great diversity of religious opinion  and
belief among the people. If there were but one prevail.
ing religious system, and the great body of the people
were united in that form or communion, it would greatly
facilitate the decision of the question before us.  As it is,
the commniunity -divided into many different and often
rival religious sects- with which of all these, if with any,
shall the state ally itself? or how can it exert that influence
which it may wish to exert in religious matters? how can
it, as a state, possess any religious character whatevei, and
not ally itself with some particular form and system, with
some one church or sect?
Diferent Courses possible.- Evidently there are three
different courses of procedure possible to the state in this
matter; - that of entire indifference, or even opposition,
to all religious culture; that of a failr and impartial protection of all religious sects and systems, without the adoption of any; and, finally, the selection and establishment
of some one as the state religion.  Each of these methods
of procedure may claim some advantages; each, on the
other hand, is liable to objections.
And first, shall the state proclaim itself iidire t to
all religious things, systems, and sects-a-ll effort for the
mnoral and religious education of the people?  Shall  it
ignore all these matters, sufflering them to exist, but taking
26
301 
DUTIES OF THIE STATE
no cognizance of them -even as it knows nothing of the
lprivate and personal affairs of its citizens, their occupation
and profession, their prosperity and failure in business,
their social and domestic affairs, with all which, and a
thousand like matters, it has, as a state, nothing whatever
to do?
It is not possible, I reply, for the state to be entirely
indifferent to this whole matter.  It is of some conse quence to it, whether its subjects have any religious belief,
and religious character, or not; whether they are educated
in tile knowledge of the highest and most important of all
trLuths, or are wholly ignorant of them; whether they believe in, and worship, Mohammed, Brahma, or Jehovah, or
are without any belief, and any God.  It cannot afford to be
wholly indifferent to, and ignorant of, such matters as these.
Shall it provide for the intellectual education of its people, and care nothing for their moral and religious culture?
II-as the latter less to do than the former with the vital
prosperity of the civil institutions-  with the very foundations of their permanence and their strength?
Nor can the state be itself wholly without a religion.
Its own highest ends cannot be secured without direct appeal to the religious sentiment, and the moral nature of
man.  It must acknowledge a personal God, a future state,
and retribution hereafter for the sins of this life, or it cannot even administer an oath.  It must, by its public acts,
recognize this God as a proper object of worship; authorize such lhomange as is suitable to him on special occasions;
and honor, in its official capacity, the sacred days, and
sacred writiligs.  "No civil government," it has been well
said, "can stand in the neglect of all religion, and no conmmniunity can maintain its freedom without a government
thus, in some way, acknowledging a religion."
It is of the highest consequence, moreover, that the reo
'D) 0 2 
TO ITS SUBJECTS.
ligion which the state recognizes should be the true one;
since, although a false religion may be better than none,
the true one is better than either.
The state cannot, then, be indifferent to the religion of
its citizens, nor wholly without a religion of its own.
Thte Seconld Jfethod. — Shall it, then, adopt the second
course? Placed under a necessity of recognizing some
religion, and anxious that its subjects should cooperate
with it, in giving to the sanctions and sentiments of a pure
faith their full force on the public mind and conscience,
shlall it set itself, by direct means, to propagate religious
truth, by establishing, or taking under its special patronage, some one form of religious belief and worship, making that the state religion and the state church, and
seeking to educate the people in it, and through it, as a
means of religious culture?  Such a course might seem to
promise some advantages. It will give definiteness to the
religious sentiment and action of the state. It will enable
the state to avail itself directly of the offices of the ministers of religion, in any way that it sees fit, as important
ends in accomplishing its purposes. It can shape to its
own liking the moral and religious education of the peop)le, and secure a higher degree of general religious culture.
It can, in a word, control, to a'greater extent than before,
and that in various ways, the religious element in society.
But then, again, is there no danger from this very
source? Is it safe to place in the hands of the civil authority the control of the religious element in society;
thus making the church, the clergy, the system of religious education, and the public conscience, subservient
to tihe designs of the state,-so many tools, by which it
can better accomplish its purposes? Is there no danger
that such power will be abused?
As a matter of fact, such an arrangement will be likely
303 
DUTIES OF THE STATE
to lead to one or the other of two results, - either the
religious organization will become the dominant power in
the state, and freedom will suffer; or the civil authority
will predominate, and the religious element become the
mere instrument of its policy. In the one case, we shall
have a people subjected to priestly dictation, - the worst
and most oppressive, because most bigoted, of all forms
of tyranny, -in the other case, a religion subject to the
state, and thereby shorn of its inherent strength and
beauty.   The history of religious establishments in all
ages verifies this supposition.   We  have, on  the one
hal(d, the Romish Church, binding in chains the human
conscience and the human will wherever it can obtain
ascendency, and crushing all freedom of thought under
the iron heel of an irresponsible hierarchy; on the other
hand, the religious establishments of Europe,  whether
Protestant or Catholic, supported by the state, the creatures of the civil power, and losing, in proportion as they
become so, their hold upon the minds and hearts of the
great mass of the people.
Fut)-ther Objection.-A  further difficulty arises, also,
from the fiact that, whatever religion the state may adopt,
there will always be, in the state, many who will not
sympathize with that peculiar form or system, but conscientiousl'y prefer some other, and who will therefore find
themselves arrayed against the state, in the most sacred
and imperative of all obligations. All, of whatever belief,
and whatever organization or sect, who do not happen to
belong to that one church which the state has recognized,
find themselves in the position of dissenters; and these,
though each sect may be small in itself, may be in the aggregate the superior number, the great body, indeed, of
the people, as regards both numbers and moral wealth andl
force; -but whether so or not, equally entitled to their
'O 4 
TO ITS SUBJECTS.
own religious convictions, and religious forms and privileges, and to the respect and support of the state in the
use and enjoyment of the same, as those from whom, in
these matters, they are compelled to differ.  Under suche
circumstances, the patronage of one body by the state
is injustice to all the rest.
By every such instance of honest, conscientious dissent
from the established religion of the state, is the moral
power of the establishment weakened.  Instead of commanding the sympathy and cordial cooperation of all the
ieligious and well-disposed members of society, in its efforts for the moral elevation of the people, and the dissemiination of sacred truth, the state, however sincere
and earnest in such efforts, finds itself working at an
immense disadvantage, as a rival among opposing sects.
And the difficulty will not be diminished, but very greatly
increased, if, forgetful of its true policy, the state should
seek to coerce andcl restrain all these dissenting bodies,
or even to force them, by pains and penalties, into a tacit
subjection, a formal union, with itself. This is what Ro
manism has ever sought to do, when it has been the ac.
knowledged religion of the state; it is what some of the
Protestant countries of Europe are still striving to accom.
plish; it is what Protestant England undertook, under
Henry the Eighth, Elizabeth, and Charles the First.
Third -J:ethoc.- The only practicable method would
seem to be, then, the plan of toleration- protecting all
forms of religious belief, but adopting and establishing no
one of them, to the exclusion of the rest, as the religion,
and the church of the state. Every man must be protected in the exercise of his religious convictions, and the
enjoyment of his religious rights; every sect and denomination of religious worshippers, so long as they observe
the rules of propriety and decency, may justly claim suchll
26*
305 
DUTIES OF TIlE STATE
protection at the hands of the civil power; every church
or religious organization may claim it, whether Christian,
Jewish, or other.  The state has no right to interfere in
this matter, and say to its citizens: "You must believe
thus and thus - you must worship thus and thus   you
must belong to this or that religious denomination, under
penalty of incurring the displeasure of government, or
of forfeiting such and such privileges." This does not, as
some writers suppose, - Dr. Whewell among others,imply that, in the opinion of the state, all these various
clturches and systems are equally false or equally true,
equally advantageous or disadvantageous, to the public
and the private welfare.  It simply implies that all have
just and equal claim to protection, and that the state has
no right to interfere with a man's private religious opinions.
The rule of universal toleration, as I have already implied, is not absolutely without its limits and exceptions.
Should the religious convictions and usages of any class
of men lead them to outrage public sentiment, by acts
indecent, or blasphemous, or shocking to the common
sense and common feeling of mankind in every civilized
and enlightened country, the state is under no obligation
to tolerate such outrage.   It is under no obligation to
allow human sacrifices, or the bloody rites of paganism;
the burning of widows on the filneral pile, or the barbarities of the papal Auto da Fe, and Inquisition; nor
yet the immoralities and indecencies that have sometimes
been practised under the plea of religion and conscience.
The same rule holds here, as in regard to property. A
man is to be protected in the possession and enjoyment
of his own, up to the point where he begins to trespass
upon the rights of others; but not a step beyond that.
So, also, if any religious sect or organization should be
,)O(;
i:) 
ro ITS SUBJECTS.
found plotting against the liberties of the state, or teach.
ing doctrines tending to sedition, and disaffection to right.
fill authority, or undermining the public virtue and de stroying the public peace -these, as interests deal to the
state, and essential to its existence, are to be defended(
against such encroachments, and the authors of the miss
chief may rightly be proceeded against, as enemies of the
state.
On the other hand, the state is not to become the propagandist of what it may regard as the true faith; is not
to become missionary abroad, or missionary at home; is
not to p)lant churches, and institute theological schools
for the religious education of the people.  This is not its
proper office.  It is not for such things that it exists.
The people must do this; the public authorities, as iiid(lividnals, may do it if they choose; but the state, as such,
exists for quite another purpose, and is out of its true
province if it undertakes such matters.
This does not, however, prevent the state firom having
any religion of its own, or from being a truly Christia).
state. It may acknowledge the general principles of
Christianity, the great truths of revelation, the existence
of God, the duty of men to honor and worship him, the
sacredness of the Christian Sabbath, the authority of the
scriptures; it may admit the doctrine of a future state
of rewards and punishments, and so the validity and sig.
nificance of an oath. It may hold and maintain all these
general truths of natural and revealed religion, and pro.
tect others in the belief of the same, without an estab.
lishecl religion, or a state church.
Nor is there, as some have contended, danger of irrelig,ion and atheism firom this source. Facts have shown
the opposite. In no country, perhaps, is the public mind
more generally and more deeply imbued with the essen
30T 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
tial principles of the Christian faith, and with a regard
and reverence for religious things, than in our own, where
these matters are left entirely to the people; and the
working of the voluntary system, thus far at least, as
contrasted with the practical results of the opposite system in the state churches aind established religions of the
Old World, seems to point conclusively to this as the true
and most effective means of niAintaining the institutions,
and disseminating the truthls, of the Christian religion,.
both at home and abroad.
CHAPTER V.
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
IN the previous chapters our inquiries have been directed
to the nature and foundation of civil government, the
duties of the subject as regards the state, and of the state
with reference to the subject. It is of importance to inquire further respecting the duties which one state, or
organized civil community, owes to other states. And this
inquiry divides itself naturally into two parts, - the ethical relations of the state to other states in general, and
the ethical relations of confederate and republican' states
like our own, to each other in particular. These topics
will be discussed in separate sections.
~ I.-THE GENERAL RELATIONS AND DUTIES OF STATES TO EACH
OTHER.
States have their relations to other states, and their
(luties growing out of those relations, no less than to their
own subjects; and these duties are as imperative and bind
308 
DUTIEIS OF STATE TO STATE.
ing in the one case as in the other.  The state is no more
fi'ee from the law of right, in its dealings with other states,
than the individual in his private dealings with other individuals.   The  same  general principles of morality, the
same obligations to truthfulness, honesty, and hecnor, in
all engagements, apply to and bind the state, as the individual.
But, while the principles are the same, the application
of them to particular circumstances may differ. The position of the state is, in many respects, a very different one
fiornom that of the individual, -it has certain rights, and
duties, which do not, and cannot, belong to him.  It becomes a matter of importance, then, to ascertain what are
the principles of morality which apply to the intercourse
of state with state, and how the relations and duties of
each to each are modified by those principles.
To define specifically the rights and obligations of nations to each other, is the province of a distinct science,that of international law, or, as it is sometimes called, the
latws of nations.  This science, however, has to do rather
wsith the existing custoims and usages of nations, as matters
of fict, than with the strictly ethical bearings and relations
of the subject, - rather with the whIat is, than the what
oughty to be; while it is rather with the latter, than the
former, that M1oral Philosophy concerns itself
Our inquiries will have reference chiefly to the following
points: thle rights and ~lities of gtations as  reyac1ls their
gentera(l intercourse,-  their mutual treaties and aligtuzces,
- their wars, - and their jurisdiction.
1. GENERIAL INTERCOURSE. -There are two pri-icil)les
which should ever be recognized in the intercourse of state
309 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
with state: That each state is, in itself, sovereign and independent, and is ever to be treated as such; and also,
That in all their regulations and transactions with each
other, states, no less than individuals, are to be governed
by the simple and unalterable principles of morality,a strict regard to the true and the right.
The sovereintgy of every nation -its independent riglit
to exist for itself, and to manage its own concerns as it
pleases, without restraint or constraint fiom abroad-is one
of the fundamental principles of international justice. Any
people or nation, occupying a given territory, organized for
purposes of government, and actually exercising control
over its own affairs, has an undoubted right to renmain ulmolested in that control of itself, so long as it respects the
rights of other states. It may be a large or a small, a
weak or a powerful state, in respect to numbers and resources; it may be a monarchy, or a republic; it may
manage its affairs wisely, or foolishly; it may progress in
all the arts and refinements of a high civilization, or renIaiii
stationary in the darkness and barbarism of a former age;it matters not what may be its condition in these respects,
it has still the right to be as it likes, and do as it likes, subject to no interference or dictation fiom states that may be
older, or stronger, or wiser and more enlightened than
itself.  So long as it is a state at all, it is a sovereign state.
It may be subdued by foreign conquest, or broken in pieces
and destroyed by civil dissension; -and in that case it is
no longer a state;- but, so long as it continues a distinct
nationality, a separate organization, it may claim the right
of absolute and independent sovereignty. England, France,
the United States, have no right to dictate to China, or
Japan, or any other state, however barbarous its custonms,
and however  inisguided its policy, what  shall or shiall
310 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
not bec its general management, and course of procedure,
as to its own affairs.
The Second Principle.- That nations are to be gov.
erned, in all their intercourse with each other, by the simple
and established principles of morality, is too plain, and too
true to require discussion, though, in fict, too often over
looked.  Nations have no more right than private individ,
uals to violate the essential principles of truth and juistice.
They are under the samie fixed and eternal laws of right they are bound by the same obligations, that apply to in dividual conduct.   There is an authority above them, a
court of appeal to which they are amenable, and by whose
ultim'te decision they must  abide.  That  public conscience, that sense of right that dwells in every bosom,
and pronounces the verdict of universal approbation or
condemnation oli the acts of nations, and the mandates of
kings, - itself but the faint echo and reproduction of that
still higher and more powerful verdict of Him who sittethl
on the circle of the heavens, and judgeth the actions of
men,- extends its authority and jurisdiction over enipires
as well as individuals, and holds the mightiest nations, no
less than the humblest citizen, subject to the eternal law
of right.
There is, indeed, no code of written law, emanatinig fi'om
an authorized legislative body, and enforced by an authorized executive; no legal penalties awaiting transgression;
no verdict of judicial tribunal arraigning the guilty nation
at its bar: yet is there not the less a law and a tribunal, a
verdict and a penalty.  Public opinion, and the universal
sense of right that holds its seat in every human bosom,
and constitutes what we may call the conscience of tlhe
race, are the real judges, the real tribunal.  The pel:lty (of
transgression is the public condemnation, and the public
311 
DUTIES OF STA'rE TO STATE.
contempt, together with that self-degradation which evil.
doing never fails to inflict on the transgressor of the laws
of right. Nor is there wanting a still higher tribunal.
The Supreme Ruler of the universe has his tlhrone among
the nations of the earth, and takes cognizance of their
crimes. Individuals receive the just award of their deeds
in the fuiture; nations and states exist as such only in the
present world, and receive their sentence and their punishment here. Fearful is the doom which awaits, at the hands
of a righteous Providence, the nation that sets itself against
the eternal laws of God.
I have said there is no written code, proceeding from an
authorized legislature, and enforced with legal sanctions,
by which the nations are to be governed in their intercourse with each other; for this were to suppose some
positive authority, some nation, or ruler above the nations,
with power to give and to punish its violation; whereas,
among men, no such lawgiver and ruler of nations exists.
Nevertheless, the essential principles of right are universally admitted; and by common consent, and the practice of
nations, many laws and regulations have come, ill process
of time, to be recognized as of authority in the intercourse
of nations, and have taken their place as established principles. These, whether written or unwritten, constitute
what are termed the Law  of NXatios, or International
Law.
Comity of attiol'ns. - Aside from the two general principles now mentioned as regulating the intercourse of nations, nanlely, that each is sovereign and independent, and
that each is bound by the ordinary rules and obligations
of morality in all its dealings, there is to be taken into
:ccount also what we may call the comity, or courtesy of
nations.  The state stands on the same footing in this
respect with the individual citizen. It is bound to treat all
312 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
other states not merely justly and honestly, hut with courtesy.  It must pay (lue regarld to the acknowledged prol)rieties and usages of national intercourse, as regards the
forms of diplomatic reception, the honors due to the flags
of other nations, and to their accredited ministers, and
whatever of the like kind common courtesy and common
usage require.
Any departure from these acknowledged rules of international civility, slul)jects a nation to the same disgrace,
among nations, which attaches to the individual who is
guilty of insolent or unbecoming behavior in polite
society.
2. MUTUAL ALLIANCES AND TREATIES. -It is sometimes for the advantage of nations to combine, for the
accomplishment of an object of common interest to each,as defence against the encroachments of a formidable
enemy, or the prosecution of scientific research and discovery. In such cases, the parties forming alliance enter
.into le.ague or covenant with each other, pledging mutual
assistance for the accomplishment of the objects specified.
The combination of the great powers of Europe to put
down Napoleon, and the joint efforts of civilized nations
for the suppression of the slave-trade, and of piracy, are
instances of such alliance.
Treaties are contracts, of a more general nature, between
state and state.  A treaty of alliance is one particular kind
of treaty, or contract. A great variety of specific objects
may be determined by treaty between different nations,as the regulations of commerce, settlement of boundaries,
decision of vexed questions of dispute, and whatever concerns the peace and prosperity of either party.
The general principles of ethics already specified as applying to the general intercourse of state with state, apply
27
313 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
also and equally to the matter of alliance and treaty
There must be no10 dishonesty or fiaud, no trickery anill
deception, no violation of truth and justice  and right.
Whatever treaty or alliance is based on, or involves, anrthing of this sort, however great may seem to be the
advantage thereby accruing to either party, is a treaty or
alliance which has no right to be. No state has a right to
combine with other powers for the injury or oppression of
any other state, or to interfere with its internal affairs and
arrangements.  It is the duty of evxery state, no less in its
alliances and treaties with foreign powers, than in its single
capacity, to irespect the rights and recognize the sovereignty of its neighbor states.
Within the lines now specified, -that is, the lines of
honesty and strict integrity,- treaties and alliances, once
formed, are binding on all the parties, and have the whole
force of law. It is the duty of each state scrupulously to
observe all the conditions and stipulations of such a contract, even to its own detriment; and to see to it that its
citizens observe the same.
3. WARs. -Nations are, unfortunately, sometimes insolved in war. Is this ever justifiable, and what are the
ethical principles that apply to such cases? A nation may
find itself involved in conflict firom either of two sources:
its rights or territory may be invaded by a force firom
without; or, its laws may be trampled upon, with armed
violence, by its own citizens. In either case there may be
a necessity for a resort to arms, in order to repel the invader, or to assert the supremacy of its own statutes. The
state exists for the public good, and is bound, so long as
it exists, to carry out and enforce whatever measures may
be deemed essential to that end. Its own laws, and its
314 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
own rights must, therefore, be maintained at all hazards,
and, if need be, by force of arms,- that is, by war.
In defence of national freedom, and the public good,
in the maintenance of law and justice,- in the pro,ection of those rights and interests which are essenti'al
to the welfare, or even the existence of the state, - this
condition of war, with all its perils and inevitable miseries, becomes a matter of necessity and of duty. It is
the price which must sometimes be paid for liberty, and
for national existence. No state is under obligation to
commit suicide, or to suffer itself to be overrun by invasion and conquest, and trampled out of existence by
unscrupulous and lawless force, so long as it can resist
and repel this violence. Nor is the question whether to
submit, or to resist, always one of mere expediency- of
profit and loss. Often it rises higher than that, and becomes a question of duty and solemn obligation. The
state, existing for a given purpose, and undertaking to
accomplish a given end, is under obligation to fulfill its
engagement, to do what it has promised and undertaken
to do; and is ethically guilty, if, having the power, it fail
to protect its citizens in their just and natural rights, and
guard the interests committed to its keeping. This is a
duty demanded of it, not merely by a regard to its own
subjects, and its own interests, but also, in many cases,
by a regard to the general interests and welfare of other
states and nations.
Still, war should ever be the last resort, -tried as a
means of redress, only when all other means fail of accomplishing the desired end. When protests and negotiations fail, and the appeal to justice and the sense of
right in the aggressor has been made in vain, and there
remains no alternative but to yield or resist, - then, and
not till then, may the injured state draw the sword, and
315 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
appeal to the God of battles, the Eternal Justice, to decide the controversy.
According to the view now taken, it is evident that,
were all nations disposed to do justly, andi( respect each
other's rights, war would be quite unnecessary. Whenever
it occurs, it always implies and involves guilt in one or both
the parties. It is no slight responsibility that is thus incurred.
That nation his much to answer for at the bar of justice
that not only involves itself in all the nliseries of war, but
subjects another and a peaceable nation to the dire nece.
sity of sacrificing its honor and its interests, or of shedding
the blood of its own sons in self-defence.
Most of the wars which ravage the earth and lay deso.
late its fairest realmns, might easily be prevented, were there
but the disposition among nations to deal fairly and honorably by each other; and even when disputes arise, and
questions of serious moment come up for decision, the
necessity for the final resort to arms might in most cases
be obviated, were the matters in dispute submitted to the
judgment and arbitration of some firiendly power.
Righyts of War. -In ancient times, the distinction of
war and peace was not very clearly defined among the
nations. The condition of war was considered the natural condition of a state in relation to other and foreign
states, -the general rule, to which peace was the exception; and that exception was usually the result of special
convention and contract. Thus, in the Latin tongue, one
and the same word denoted both a stranger and an enemy.
As the distinction in question came to be more clearly
defined, and war became a specific thing, in distinction
from the state of universal hostility and piracy, certain
rules canme to be recognizedcl, by common usage and consent, as applicable to the general conduct of nations at strife
316 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
with eaet} other; and these were design'itcel as the rigets
of war.  These niglits of war, among the Icl'icuits, partook
of much that was savage and barbarous in their character,
in accordance with the spirit of the time.  They extended
to the right of enslaving, and even of putting to death,
not merely all prisoners taken in war, but even all the
inhabitants of a conquered country, without distinction
of combatant and non-combatant. At the same time, they
required the conqueror to allow the burial of the slain
among the vanquished; and they attached the utmost
sacredness and inviolability to the office of herald, or envoy, and scrupulously guarded the faithful observance of
all truces or treaties between the belligerents.
In modern times, the rights of war have been divested
of much that was savage and barbarous in their earlier
form.  Distinction is made between those who bear arms,
and those who do not, in any community; and it is understood by all parties, that the war is not waged with women
and children, and inoffensive, peaceable citizens, but only
waith actual combatants, - with the army and navy, or the
organized fighting force of the enemy.  It is the destructioni of this organized force, rather than the destruction of
human life, that is the object aimed at. Hence, every act
of wanton cruelty and needless bloodshed is branded as
worthy of reprobation; and the prisoner, once in the hands
of his captors, is no longer an enemy, to be slain or enslaved at the will of the conqueror, because no longer a
part of that military organization against which the war
is waged.  And so with the ship that has struck its flag to
the enemy in naval contest. In the middle ages, it was the
custom cf war to sparec the lives of prisoners, and set them
free on payment of a ransom. Among modern nations, the
vanquished soldier becomes prisoner of war merely by
giving up his arms and askiig, quarter, and obtains his
27*
317 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
liberty by exchange with the opposite  party, or, sonie times, where that cannot be effected, by parole, or word
of honor that he will not serve again in the war.
The barbarities attending the storming and capture of a
besieged town or fortress are among the most revolting
and inhuman of all the manifold atrocities which stain the
annals of war.  Pillage, rapine, indiscriminate destruction,
are but too firequently the established order of the day.
To some extent, doubtless, scenes of violence are inevitable in such cases.  It is impossible to protect entirely those
who are noncombatants from the miseries of the siege,
the famine, the assault and capture. It is the misfortune
of the innocent- as too often in this world - to suffer
with the guilty. To put to death, in cold blood, those
who had cast themselves on the clemency or the good
faith of the conqueror, would be justified, however, by no
laws or usag,es of modern warfare.  In cases of protracted
resistance, measures of severity are sometimes practise(d,
as putting the garrison to the sword, or giving up the
place to pillage, for the purpose of striking terror into
other resisting and fortified places, and thus bringing the
war sooner to an end.   Such procedure may possibly be
justified, in some extreme cases, on the ground of humanity,
and the ultimate saving of life. But such acts, even if
sometimes necessary, are still among  the most inhuman
features of war.
By the usages of modern warfare, private property is
respected in an enemy's country, on the ground that it is
not with the citizen, but the state, that war is waged. At
sea, however, the same rule has not, as yet, been esta.blished; but the merchant's vessel is liable to be captured,
and his goods seized, as not being within the territory,
and on that account, in a nmeasure, out of the protection
818 
D)U TIES OP STATE Tn STATE.
of the state to which he belongs.   It is difficult to perceive the justice and ethical ground of such a distinction.
4. INTERNATIONAL J URISDICTION. -By gradual usage
and conventional agreement of nations, certain rules and
maxims have come to be of acknowledged authority in
respect to national territory and rights of jurisdiction.
As against other states, every state has the unquestioned
and exclusive right to its own  territory.   But it may
often come in question, how far does that territory extend. HIence, it is important to settle all such questions
according to some established rules. By the law of nations, the territory of any state is considered as extending
to the forts, harbors, bays, and whatever parts of the sea
are enclosed by headlands belonging to that state.  Its
jurisdiction also extends to the distance of a cannon-shot
from the shore, along all its coasts. Within these lines
its right of property and control is exclusive.
States have sometimes claimed still further jurisdiction
over adjacent seas, as formerly Venice over the Adriatic,
and, more recently, Turkey over the Euxine, Russia over
the Baltic, and Denmark over the Sound. It sometimes
happens that rivers run through different countries, in
their course to the sea; in such cases there is at least
a moral and commercial, if not an international right,
of each state through whose territory it may pass, to the
unobstructed right of the same, for purposes of commerce.
In times of peace, this right is usually conceded, either
tacitly or by convention; in case of hostilities between
nations thus situated, the rights of commerce give way
to the rights of war, and, by the usage of nations, the
enemy's ships, as already stated, are lawfill plunder. Even
the goods of a neutral state are not exempt from this rule,
819 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
when found in an enemy's vessel, -the maxim being that
enemy's ships make enemy's goods.
The question sometimes arises, how far the jurisdiction
of a state extends to its subjects when out of its territory;
as, for example, in a ship on the high seas. It is generally
conceded, that the vessels of any nation, at sea, and beyond the territorial limits of other states, are subject to
the jurisdiction of the state to which they belong. So
far as respects the violation of its own laws, that jurisdiction is exclusive.   When  an offence is committed
against the common law of nations, it passes out of the
exclusive jurisdiction of that particular state to which
the vessel belongs, and may be punished by the proper
tribunal of any country into whose ports the offender
may be cartied. This is the case with piracy, for example. Any ship suspected of being a pirate, may be
searched by any stronger power, without regard to the
flag under which she may choose or chance to sail; and
those engaged in her navigation or defence may be tried,
and, if convicted, be put to death, by the legal authorities of any other state, into whose ports they may be
taken.
No reason can be shown why it should not be the same
with the slave-trade. Such, however, is not the present
construction of international law. The slave-trade is, indeed, condemned by the laws of all civilized nations;
but it has been decided by the English courts, that it is
not, in such a sense, a crime against the general law of
nations, as to authorize the courts of one nation to try
the loyal subjects of another, charged with this offence,
except in case of special treaty to that effect.
The national jurisdiction extends, moreover, not merely
320 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
to its subjects and vessels on the high seas, but in some
degree, and within certain limnits, to its subjects in any
foreign territory. The person of a sovereign, or an ambassador, passing into the territory of a foreign state, is
not, in time of peace, considered as properly subject to
its jurisdiction. The consuls, also, and other authorized
agents and ministers of every state, exercise, to some extent, jurisdiction over their countrymen in foreign states
where such ministers or agents may reside.   Ships of
war, in foreign ports, are exempt from local jurisdiction
of the same; but not private vessels, unless by special
aogreement.
The general principles of state jurisdiction may be comprehended in the following maxims, as stated by jurists
of distinction: First, That the laws of a state have force
within the limits of its own government, and bind all
its subjects, but have no force beyond those limits. Second, That, with the exceptions already stated, all persons
found within the limits of a government, whether their
residence is permanent or temporary, are to be deemed
subjects of that government.   And, inasmuch  as men
often pass from one state to another, in which the laws
respecting rank, property, contracts, marriage, etc., may
vary from those of the former, it has been generally conceded, as a maxim of state policy, that whatever laws respecting such matters are in force in the state from which
one comes, the same shall be considered valid and binding on him in the state to which he goes, so far as they
do not interfere withl the established laws and rights of
the latter, and of its citizens. Thus, a contract valid by
the laws of the land in which it is made, is valid in all
other countries.
Such are some of th~ general principles of international
jurisprudence. For a fulite di,cusion of the subject, thQ
321 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
reader is referred to the works which treat particularly
of these matters; andl especially to Story's Conflict of
Laws, Wheaton's Elemenets of International Law, Aanning's Commentaries on the Law of Nations, as also to
the comnmentaries of Kent, and Blackstone.
i II.-ETHICAL RELATIONS OF REPUBLICAN STATES TO EACH
OTHER.
The general principles which should regulate the in telrcourse of states with each other, have been pointed
out in the previous sections.   These princil)es apply,
also, in the main, to the intercourse of states confederate
wiith each other, whether as independent  sovereignties,
or united under one constitution as a Republic.  States
thus confederated, or united, sustain to each other, how evei, peculiar relations; an(l fi'om these arise certain cor respondinig obligations, of a imore specific nature than
those already considered.   I hlave sl)oken of twvo foims
which this relation may assumne -that of a simple con.fe(7ceratio), and that of a republic.
The Confederation.-  Ini the former case, certain states,
adjacent, it may be, in territory, or drawn toward each
by community of interest, for purposes of mutual benefit,
or for mutual defence, form themselves into a league, and
deliberate, by their representatives in council, on matters
of common interest or common  danger.   The separate
cantons of Swiitzeiland are an example of such confede
eration.   The different provinces of Germany were formerly, and, to some extent, are still, if I mistake not, thus
united.   In such cases, the several states are still independent sovereignties, maintaining each its own form of
'government, the authority of each absolute and exclusive
wNithin its own domains, and each separated, it nity be,
fiom its neighbors by mutual jealousies and dissensions
322 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
The congress which represents thelll possesses no sovereignty over any one of these states, nor over all combined; its acts are only acts of council; and any state, if
dissatisfied, may at any moment withdraw fiom  the council entirely, or refilse to execute it:, resolves.  Such a congress may act as agent for the severdl states, with delegated authority, to declare and carry on war, or to make
peace; to appoint ambassadors, and to conclude treaties.
Such trleaties and acts, however, are not binding, until
they receive the assent of each sovereign state, in its separate capacity.
T/le _Rel?)blic. -Such an arrangement as that now described is a very different matter, and involves a very
different relation of the several parties, fi'on that which
is implied in a P.eptblic. The union is nuclh closer, and
more perfect, in the latter case, than in the former.  The
several states are no longer independent aUd( sovereign,
but they compose one whole, under one national governinent, and to this national government is committed the
sovereignty and control of the general affairs, so far as
other nations are concerned, - its powers being limited
and defined, however, by the constitution.  Within the
limits thus prescribed, its authority is complete, that is
as to all things given by the states, in the first place, to
its jurisdiction. All other matters remain still under the
separate jurisdiction of the several states. It can raise
armlies, levy taxes, declare war or peace, regulate commerce, and all transactions with foreign states; in a word,
nmay do all that any sovereign state can do, subject only
to) its own constitution.  Our own country furnishes an
example of such a Republic.
A government thus constituted derives, evidently, all
its powers firom the constitution.   Whatever that con
cedes, it may do, but nothing beyond; everything else
323 
DUTIES OF STATE TO STATE.
lies still in the power of the several states in their individual capacity.   No  one of these may  interfere with
the internal arrangements and affairs of any other, nor
is any one responsible for what another may choose to
do, or not to do.
Each state becomes a member of the republic, in the
first place, only by its own consent; that is, by the adoption of the general constitution that binds together the
whole. The transfer of its sovereignty to the whole must
be its own free act. But that once done, and the state
having once become a member of the republic, it has no
longer a moral right to withdraw, or to refuse compliance
with the general laws and regulations of the government,
unless such condition is specially and specifically contained in the articles of primitive agreement; that is,
in the original constitution.
In the forcible and just language of Dr. Hickok: "A
constitution with, and one without, the rights of nullification or secession, are two very different things; and
if the right is not plainly expressed, then it does not
exist; and those who have adopted it, have vested rights
under it which no separate state can amend or disregard."
The crime of treason attaches to all deliberate and armed
resistance to authority thus constituted; and the republic
has the power and the right to enforce its authority
against any recreant state, subject only to the limits
which the constitution imposes.
324 
PART V.
DUTIES-TO GOD.
OF the general classes into which the practical duties
of life were divided in our analysis, those which pertain to
self, to society, or our fellow-men in general, to the family, and to the state, have already claimed our attention.
It remains to consider, in the present division, those which
we owe to God.  In one sense, as it has been already re
marked, all our duties, whether to self or to society, to
the family or the state, are duties which we owe to God.
Hle regards them as such, and will hold us responsible f6r
their fulfillment. There is no duty in life, to whomsoever
and to whatsoever it may directly pertain, the faithful perfdrmance of which he does not regard as service' rendered
anto him, and the neglect of which he will not count
as unfaithfulness and disobedience toward himself.  But,
while this is true of all duties, there are some which more
specially and directly pertain to God as their immediate
object; and it is of these I am now to speak.
These, again, resolve themselves naturally into two
classes,- those which relate to the feelings which we cherish, and those which relate to the conduct which we manifest, towards God. Among the more prominent of the
former class are the duties of Reverence and Love; of the
28 
326    OF TIIE FEELINGS TOWARDS GOD.
latter, the duties of Obedience and Worship.  These may,
perhaps, be regarded as comprehensive of all others.
Before proceeding to treat of these several duties in
detail, a word ought perhaps to be said with respect to
their relation and importance, as comipared with other
departments of duty. Of the various classes of human
obligation, those which we owe to the Supreme  Being
are entitled to the highest rank. All other branches of
duty are, in a measure, inferior and subordinate to these.
These neglected, all others will be; these faithfully performed, all others will follow in their train.
This seems to have been well understood by the ancients.
"It should never be thought," says Plato, "that there is
any branch of human virtue of greater importance than
piety towards the Deity."  To the same effect, in the
Memorabilia of Xenophon,  Socrates speaks of the worship of the gods as a duty acknowledged everywhere, and
received by all men as the first command. Cicero, likewise,
in his treatise De Officiis, ranks first in order of importance
those duties which we owe to the immortal gods.
CHAPTER I.
OF THE FEELINGS TOWARDS GOD.
1. REVERENcE. -If there is such a Being as God, the
creator of all, the supreme disposer of events, the righteous
ruler and judge of men, and if he is what we believe him
to be, omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, eternal, holy,
just and good, surely this great and glorious Being is worthy of the highest reverence of the mind.  The moment 
OF THE FEELINGS TOWARDS GOD.
the idea of such a Being presents itself to the mind, we
are instinctively impressed with the grandeur of the conception, and filled with awe, as in the presence of a superior power. That mind must be deficient ill self-respect,
lacking in the perception of what is seemly and proper,
that does not feel and acknowledge its obligation to bow
inr deepest reverence before the august and glorious Being
who inhabiteth eternity, and filleth immensity with his
presence. That mind must be sadly disordered, and thrown
from its balance, that does not instinctively yield this homage.
Even bad men may do this, and have often done it.
The selfish and corrupt heart, that seeks only its own ends,
and lives only for itself, may still retain with reverence and
fear the thought of that infinite excellence and purity, so
superior to anything of which it is itself conscious. Such
a fear may indeed border on superstition, - in many cases
it may be nothing more, -yet even a superstition such as
this, is surely better and more reasonable than utter irreverence.
Reverence is an emotion that takes its rise in the spiritual nature of man. It is awakened in view of the spiritual,
wherever manifested. The sublime aspects of nature, in
so far as they express the majesty and power, and indicate
the presence of the invisible One, whose breath giveth life
to all creatures, and whose hand sustains the goodly fabric
of creation, are fitted to awaken and call forth this emotion.
The reverent mind sees God in all his works. The eternal
hills are his strength; the clouds are his chariot; the
lightnings are his arrows; the thunder is his voice. In the
impassioned language of sacred poetry, even inanimate
nature fears and adores her God.  "He toucheth the hills,
and they smoke."  At his going forth, "the pillars of heaven
327 
328   OF THE FEELINGS TOWARDS GOD.
tremble, and are astonished."  "The deep uttereth his
voice, and lifteth up his hands on high."
But it is not in the external world alone that the spirit ual nature of man recognizes and reveres the Infinite Spirit.
God comes yet nearer than this to the soul that he hath
made in the image of his own.  In all the fears and hopes
that agitate that soul, as it looks forward to the future; in
all its aspirations for a higher excellence than it has yet
attained; in all the providences of its earthly lot; in all the
utterances of the sacred oracles; in all the silent and holy
communing of the soul with its Maker, -the devout mind
recognizes the presence of its God, and adores with fear
and trembling; and never is the soul of man more truly
dignified and exalted, than when thus bowing low in deepest reverence before God.
Nor is the emotion of which I speak a painful one. In
this respect it differs from fear, to which it is otherwise
closely analogous.  There is in it more of love than fear.
The majesty and the glory, that reveal to the waiting and
wondering soul the presence of the Infinite, fill that soul
with awe indeed, but not with fear, - inspire it with a calm
and holy delight. There is much, it may be, in the scene
or the object contemplated, that is awful and terrible; but
yet a strange and invisible attraction draws the spirit
towards the object which awakens its admiring and adoring regard; and it stands in that sacred presence, as Moses
before the burning bush in the desert, filled with awe, yet
not choosing to turn away from a spot so holy.
The reverence of which I speak, as due to the Supreme
Being, belongs also, in a degree, to all that is connected
with his namne and his worship, -in a word, to all sacred
things.  The reverent mind will never allow itself to trifle
with anything that pertains to the Divine Being.   His 
OF THiE FEELINGS TOWARDS GOD.
name, his word, his ordinances, his works - all are sacred,
and to be revered. Whatever tends to desecrate the samne,
shocks the sensibility of every right mind.  To take tlhe
name of God in vain, or to treat with levity anything pertaining to religion, is the height of irreverence and impiety.
2. LOVF. -It is not enough to fear God.  Reverence,
however becoming, and however the want of it may indicate some serious defect or degradation of character, is still
not the whole, nor the chief duty of the heart towards
God.  The displays of his power and majesty in nature,
or the simple conception of his greatness and glory, tho
idea of the Infinite and the Absolute, of Him who is with()tt beginning of days, or end of years, may fill the mind
that once fairly entertains so grand and sublime a thought,
with a profound awe, and call forth its deepest reverence.
But God is more than this. He is a good, as well as a great
)Being, and as such, deserves not merely our reverence, but
our love.
Gratitude alone, if there were no higher consideration,
requires this. The goodness of God is not ail abstract
quality, a mere conception of the mind, but a matter of
personal experience, as manifested to every man in the
constant and ever-varying benefits of every passing hour
of life. The God whom we are to love, is the God that
hath led us all our life long, and hath crowned all our days
with his loving kindness. There can be no clearer evidence of the guilt, and utter ruin of the soul, than that it
should find in itself, among all its varied powers, and exquisite susceptibilities of emotion, no answering chord of
grateful affection for all those benefits, - that it should
have a full and generous love to bestow on all inferir
28*
329 
330    OF TI-IE FEELINGS TOWARDS GOD.
objects, but no love for Him who alone is worthy of
supreme regard, the giver of every good and perfect gift.
All true obedience, and all true and acceptable worship,
must have its seat and source in this emotion.  That is an
idle and a vain service, which proceeds not from true love
in the heart.  Indeed, as Paley has well said, "That silent
piety which consists in a habit of tracing out the Creator's
wisdom and goodness in the objects around us, of referring the blessings we enjoy to his bounty, and of resorting
in our distresses to his succor, may possibly be more
acceptable to the Deity than any visible expressions of
devotion whatever."
Love to God is the spring of all true religion, and the
foundation of all genuine morality.  It is a duty comprehensive, in part, of all others. It is the first and great
conmmnandment, comprising within itself all minor requirements. The God who made us, and whom we serve,- in
whom we live, and move, and have our being, - demands
our love - will be satisfied with nothing less, deserves
nothing less. Failing in this, we miss the whole duty of
man.
Accordingly, God has formed us to love him, and endowed us with a nature fitted to this end. HIe has so constituted us, that, by the very laws of our being, whatever is
beautiful and excellent naturally wins our admiration,
and calls forth our love. We are not insensible to all
the beauty and grandeur of his works. On every side
they surprise, they delight us. But these are only a poro
tion of his ways-the dim and faint reflection of the eternal beauty and excellence that dwells in him, their author
and original.  Loving and admiring these his works, he
wvould have us, in these and above these, love and adore 
OF THE FEELINGS TOWARDS GOD.
himself, the source of all -the Being in whomn all loveli.
ness, all beauty, dwell.
Our nature inclines us to admire, also, what is morall.
excellent, what is great and noble in character, as well as
what is beautiful and lovely ill the external world. There
are certain attributes and qualities of mind  and heart
which, wherever manifested, win our admiration. We are
formned to love and admire such qualities-it is our nature.
But He who so formed us, possesses in himself, in highest
perfection, these very attributes; and in so constituting us
as to love what is truly great, and cxcllent, and worthy to
be loved, hle has specially formed and fitted us to love
Himself, the source of all excellence.
And does he not richly deserve our love, simply for
bestowing upon us a nature thus fitted for inlfinite enjoyment?  A  single sensation of happiness, it has been well
remarked, though it should continue but for a moment,
and terminate with that single moment, would be a cause
for gratitude so long as it could be remembered.   If
this be so, if the enjoyment of even a single sense, for a
single moment, is cause of gratitude, what shall we say of
that constant enjoyment, not of one, but of all our senses;
not of sense merely, but of the higher intellectual pleasures; not of intellect merely, but of heart, and soul, and
all that fills the spiritual, moral nature with delight; and
this not for a single moment of existence, but through
life? Does not the generous donor of a happiness so
varied and bountiful, and utterly undeserved, richly merit
that love which he seeks to draw forth from his creatures
toward himself?
331 
OF OBEDIENCE.
CHAPTER II.
OF OBEDIENCE.
TEE duties of the heart, though at the foundation of all
morality and all piety, do not terminate in themselves,
and are not complete in themselves.   Moral obligation
relates to the conrcuct, no less than to the feeliiygs. Reverence toward God, and love to God, lead to obedience,
and terminate in that as their natural result and object.
The feeling manifests itself in the conduct, insomuch that
where the latter is deficient, we are warranted in concluding that the former is also lacking.  There cannot be true
love to God in the heart, where there is not real obedience
to God in the life. The first and chief duty of all these,
so far as regards the conduct of man with respect to God,
is obedience to the divine will.  "If ye love me, keep my
commandments."
The obligation to obedience results both from the divine
character, and from the relations we sustain to God as his
creatures.
The Divine Character. - The character of God is conformable to the highest conceptions which the human
mind can form of excellence and purity. In him are
united all the attributes that command our admiration.
To him belong not only infinite power, and matchless wisdom, but the most exalted purity, the strictest justice, the
most universal benevolence.  All that we see and admire
in others of these virtues and perfections, is but the reflection of his own superior excellence, a feeble emanation
from that Source of all beauty and splendor.
332 
OF OBEDIENCE.
Now, it is fit that a Being of such exalted perfections
should receive the homage and obedience of all hearts and
all lives. His character erititles him to command, and obligates us to obey. There is a moral fitness and propriety
that the sceptre of the universe should rest in his hands;
that the Being in whom repose all wisdom, and power, and
goodness, and truth, and justice, should be also the source
of law, and receive the cordial obedience of the universe.
For any being to refuse such obedience, is for the finite to
set itself against the infinite; the feeble and imperfect to
declare itself independent of the perfect; the impure and
unholy to exalt itself against the holy; the creature of a
day to declare itself more wise and worthy to rule than
the august Being whose goings forth are from eternity.
It is impossible for any candid and intelligent mind calmly
to meditate upon the character and perfections of God,
and not perceive in them a sufficienlt reason why all creatures, in all parts of his dominion, should yield him willing and earnest obedience.
Our  Relations to  Him. -The duty of obedience results
also firom the relations which we sustain to the Divine
Being. He is not only in himself the source and fountain
of highest excellence, but he has imparted fiom his own
infinite resources life and happiness to all creatures.  He
is our Creator. All that we prize and value in life as such,
is his gift. His breath woke us first into existence. Whatever powers of body or of mind we possess, with whatever natural attributes we are endowed, all are his, and of
him.  Nothing pertaining to us can we properly call our
own.  From the first moment of existence to the last, we
exercise no faculty of thought or feeling or action, which
lie has not first given us, and which he does not rightly
claim as belonging to himself The very power to disobey
333 
OF OBEDIENCE.
is a power which he has himself conferred.  In him we
live, and move, and have our being; and when, in our madness and folly, we refuse him the homage and service
which he justly demands, it is against him in whose hand
our breath is that we vainly strike. He bears with our
folly, for he knoweth our frame; hlie remembereth that we
are dust; yet he never relinquishes his claim to our entire
and hearty obedience.
The Nature of his -Reuirements.- A further argument
and obligation to obedience is derived from the nature of
the divine requirements.  From such a Being, infinite in
power, and all the attributes of the most perfect character,
and sustaining such peculiar relations to us, as creatures,
dependent on his constant protection for our continued existence, as we are on his creative power for our first origin,
-from such a Being, and in such relations, any law which
he might give, would carry with it the weight and binding force of a perfect moral obligation. The simple fact
that he is a perfect Being, incapable of willing or commanding that which is wrong, and that he is our own
Creator, and constant Benefactor, make it imperative on
irs to give earnest heed to the least and most trivial expression of that will which to us is law.
But, to state the matter thus, and leave it thus, would be
to make but an imperfect statement of it. When we come
to look at what this law is which he has given us, we find
it one which, in itself, and apart from all consideration of
the source from which it emanates, carries its own author
ity and power of obligation. It is a law not arbitrary in
its mandate, and for which no reason can be assigned other
than that the Maker chose to have it so; but, on the con.
trary, a law directly adapted to our nature and wants. It
requires that which it is for our own highest good that we
334 
OF OBEDIENCE.
should do; it forbids that which it is for our own highest
good to avoid.  Obedience to such a law brings our whole
being into harmnony with itself and with the demands of
its own nature; disobedience results in the disaIrraniemient
and discord of all the powers of the soul, the disorder and
ultimlate ruin of thie physical, the mental, and the moral
man.  Viewed in this its true light, the Divine WTill is not
so much a law commanding obedience for its own sake, as
a kind and faithful guide sent to direct our steps in the
uncertain wilderness of life, and to point us to those paths
which lead to honor and imnmortality and eternal life. It is
that Celestial Wisdom of which Hebrew poets sang,- the
merchandise of which is better than the merchandise of
silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold; -more precious than rubies, and all the things thou canst desire not
to be compared to her;-in her right hand, leIngth of
days; in her left hand, riches and honor; her ways, ways
of pleasantness, and all her paths peace;- a tree of life to
them that lay hold on her, and happy he who retainetli
her.
Tlte -Dictate of Reason.- Reason, aside fromn the teacihing,s of revelation, points out the duty of obedience to the
divine requirements. Animals have no law but that of
appetite and instinct.  They have no moral nature, and
are therefore not proper subjects of moral government.
an is a being of a higher order, endowed with powers
which fit him to take rank with the noblest orders of
created intelligence.  To him it is given to know the right
and the wrong, to look onward firom the act to its consequences, to trace events to their causes; to him is given
the sense of moral obligation; to him the aspirations and
hol)es of the future.  Such is his moral nature, tlhat lie cailnInot be happy, cannot reach the true good of his being, lis
own high destiny, but by likeness to and communion with
335 
OF OBEDIENCE.
his adorable Creator. Hlis nature denlands this, is ever un.
satisfied and restlessly yearning without it. HIis earnest
soul, agitated by passions and conflicting desires, becomes
as the troubled sea till it finds its rest in Go(l - till it hears
the voice of its Creator, walking upon its waves, and saying unto them, Peace! - be still!
Is man, then, in all his consciousness of freedom, and of
power to do as he will, without a law?  Is not this very
nature of his a law unto him? This sense of right, this
feeling of obligation, this consciousness of a higher end
and purpose, this longing for something better, purer, than
he has yet obtained- are not these all a law unto him?
And shall he violate this law merely because he has the
[)oweir, and can do so if he will? Is not such a course
utterly irrational, and a gross abuse of the freedom with
which he is endowed?
Whether we look, then, at the character and perfections
of the Being who claims our homage and obedience, or at
the relations which we sustain to him, or at the nature of
the law he has given us, or at our' own moral nature and
the dictates of reason respecting the same, we find equally,
and from all sources, the clearest vindication of the divine
right to our service and allegiance.
As to the nature of the obedience which we owe to the
Divine Will, it is sufficient to say that it must be cordital
and sincere-not a matter of form merely, but a matter of
the heart; otherwise it is in reality no obedience, since
the very requirement that is made of us is to love the Lord
our God with all our heart, and soul, and mind, and
strength. It should, moreover, be a prompt and ready
obe(dience - not reluctantly given, as that from which we
would gladly be excused but for the force and pressure of
circumstances, but the free, spontaneous offering of a will
336 
OF WORSHIP.
ing mind.  It should b)e a decisive obedience, comnprehensive of all the powevrs and faculties of our being, -the
obedience not of a divided and distracted kingdom, but
of a heart firm ill its loyalty, and true to itself and to its
:ightfuil sovereign.
CHAPTER III.
OF WORSHIP.
THE reverence and love which we owe to God, and that
obedience which springs from these, and constitutes their
natural and appropriate expression, have been already considered in the preceding chapters. But those affections
and dispositions of heart which lead to obedience, lead
also to the worship of God. That exalted and glorious
Being who is the object of our reverence and our love, and
who claims our obedience, is also the proper object of our
adoration and worship. No intelligent mind can for a
moment contemplate the character and attributes, the
works and the ways of Jehovah, what he is, and what he
does, and not feel that he is worthy of the direct adoration
and homage of every created being.
The worship of the Supreme Being, seems to be an in..
stinc     tive   principle, an impulse of our nature, a law of the
soul. As such, it shows itself under all the forms and conditions   of soicial life, in all ages, and all countries, in all
the various religions of the race, whether true or false,
superstitious or reasonable. Whoever builds an altar, or
in the silent recesses of his heart breathes a prayer; who
29
337 
OF WORSHItP.
ever bows himself toward the rising sun, or stretches forth
his hand in supplication toward the moon walking il li r
brightness, or the stars that gem the brow of night; whoever calls upon an unknown God, or worships the invisible
spirit that filleth immensity with his presence, and is not
far from every one of us,- is but acting in accordance to
this impulse and instinct of his nature. He who never
worships, has in reality no religion, and knows no God.
In discussing this subject two distinct topics present
themselves to our attention,-  the one relating to worship)
in itself considered, the other to the observance of sac(re(l
times and special occasions for worship-  Prayel, and
the Sabbath.
~ I.- OF PRAYER.
Its Nature.- Prayer is not necessarily direct, or vocal;
not of necessity limited to any set form, or time, or place.
It is not always even the express utterance in words, or
presenting in thought, of any specific petition or desire.
There may be prayer without any of these conditions.
The silent breathing of the heart; the silent going forth of
the soul to its God in adoration and praise, or ill humble
penitence and contrition; the faith that rests placidly on
his mercy for pardon and the forgiveness of sin; the hope
that looks joyfully toward the hills firom whence its help
cometh; the love that finds delight in communing with so
great and so glorious a friend, - these various states and
exercises of the mind are all, in one sense, but so many
forms and varieties of prayer. The communion and converse of the soul with God, in whatever manner or form, is
in reality prayer. It is this which constitutes the prayer,
when words and forms aie used; and the words and forms
may be dispensed with, but the prayer still go on; while,
338 
OF WORSHIP.
without this, the mere words and forms, however solemn
and imposing, become but a vain and senseless mockery.
As when one afar from home, and in some strange land,
mingles with his fellow-men, the companions of his voyage,
and engages, it may be, in the pursuits of business which
br]ought him thither, -still thinking, however, of his home
and firiends, and longing to meet them again, and cherishing their memory and their words in his heart, while yet
those thoughts find no utterance or expression before
those with whom he mingles,-so is it often with the truly
devout soul, cherishing its silent and sweet thoughts of
God, and conversing with him in reality, while engaged in
the pursuits and occupations of daily life.
I am very far, however, from implying, in what I have
now said, that the true spirit of prayer does not naturally
seek for itself direct and vocal utterance, and those appropriate times, and places, and forms of expression, which
are suited to its wants. True, these are but the body,
the other the soul; still the two are in nature conjoined.
Hie whose prayers never take the form of direct petition,
and never clothe themselves in words, nor ask for themselves any special time and place, exclusive of other things,
pays questionable worship. He is like the traveller in foreign lands who contents himself with occasional thoughts
of home and friends, while constantly engaged in the
business or the pleasures that surround him, but takes
no time for direct converse or correspondence, nor even
sets apart one moment from other pursuits, as sacred to
this holier occupation.
Prayer includes, not petition only, but praise and thanks
giving. It contemplates not merely our own wants, but
the greatness and glory of Him whom we worship. In
the adoration which is thus called forth, in the admiring
wonder and delight with which the mind is thus filled,
339 
OF WORSHIP.
it forgets itself, often, and its little wants, and thinks only
of the glorious Beiing in whose presence it stands, and
before whose bilghtness it is astonished.  Or it is filled
with gratitude and joy, in view of all the mercies it has
received at the hand of this gicat and glorious God, and
its thankfiulness finds expression in praise. In such moments its songs are prayers, and its prayers are songs.
Nor is prayer always a private matter. True, the soul
naturally seeks solitude, as the condition most favorable
to devotion. But not always thus. At the family altar,
in the social circle,' and in the more formal devotions of
the solemn assembly, prayer finds its appropriate place,
and its fitting utterance.   Nor is the social and public
worship of God less a duty, than the more private and
solitary communion with him, which the devout spirit so
highly prizes.
Its Source. — If we inquire whence springs this desire
of the human soul to hold converse with its Go(],-by
virtue of which not the good and devout alone, but even
bad men, whose hands are stained with crime, and whose
hearts, by long continuance in evil, are rendered insensible to the beauty and excellence of virtue, are nevertheless sometimes inclined to acts of devotion, -we  shall
find its source, if I mistake not, partly in that religious
instinct, of which I have already spoken as natural to
man; partly in the fears of the future, and the consciousness of ill-desert, which at times oppress and overwhelm
the guilty; partly in the happiness which the pure and
devout mind experiences in comnmuning with its God.
It seems to be the intention of nature that man should
thus recognize his dependence on the Divine Being, and
find his highest happiness in comnmuning with him.  Per
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OF WORSHIP.
haps, also, we ought to take into account, in this connection, the social nature of man, as inclining him to the
same result. The heart of man is ill fitted for solitude,
longs for companionship, seeks to share its sorrows and its
joys with some other and sympathizing heart.  In man it
finds not always the fellowship and sympathy it needs; in
man it cannot always confide.  But to its God it can come
in the darkest and weariest hour of life, sure of sympathy
and of relief, sure that its confidence will not be betrayed.
In the just and beautiful language of Mr. Stewart:  " The
dejection of mind which accompanies a state of complete
solitude; the disposition we have to impart to others our
thoi,ghts and feelings; the desire we have of other intel6igeit and moral natures to sympathize with our own,
all lead us, in the p)rogress of reason and of moral culture,
to establish gradually a mental intercourse with the Invisible Witness and Judge of our conduct.  An  habitual
sense of tile divine presence comes at last to be formed.
In every object or event that we see, we trace the hand
of the Almighty, and in the suggestions of reason and
conscience, we listen to his inspirations.   In this intercourse of the heart with God, - an intercourse which
enlivens and gladdens the most desolate scenes, and which
dignifies the duties of the meanest station,- the supreme
felicity of our nature is to be found; and till it is firmly
established, there remains a void in every breast which
nothing earthly can supply."
Its Reasonableness. -In what has now been said, we
find not merely an explanation, but a justification of
prayer. It is eminently a reasonable and proper thing,
inasmuch as it is founded in the very nature and wants
of man as a dependent and social being. Hle is a weak
and helpless creature, dependent on his God for every
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OF WORSHIP.
moment-of existence, in need of a constant protection anI
guidance, a constant and powerful preservation.   Why
should he not acknowledge this dependence, by going
directly to the Source of all light and life for whatever
he needs?  We  ask for what we want, always, of our
fellow-men; why should we not of our God also?
Its Efficacy. -It must be admitted, after all, that the
reasonableness of prayer depends, in a measure at least,
on its efficacy.  If it were of no avail to present our
petition to the throne of the Divine Majesty, little could
be said in favor of such a course. That which is quite
useless, and known to be so, can hardly be called a reasonable procedure.   Now, it is precisely here that  the
gravest and weightiest objections lie against the reasonableness and duty of prayer. If it is best that we should
receive that for which we ask, if this is accordant with
divine wisdom and goodness, then God will certainly bestow it upon us, whether we ask it or not; but if it be
not so, then he will not give it to us, even if we do ask.
Of what avail, then, in either case, is our asking?  I reply:
this objection assumes too much. It by no means follows
that whatever it is best for us to have, in antswer to our
prayers, it is best for us to have without the asking. The
prayer may be the very condition on which the bestowal
of the favor is suspended, and without which, divine wisdom would not see fit to grant it.
But it is further objected, that prayer implies a desire
and request on our part that God, the infinitely wise, and
just, and good, would alter the course of the world, and
of his own administration, in order to suit our wishes.
He has marked out a certain course of action, has established certain laws and principles, according to which the
oourse of nature moves on from age to age. We come,
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in our folly and presumption, and ask him so far to alter
and suspend these laws and this course of action, as to
bring about some specific event, not included in the ori,ginal plan, or to prevent the accomplishment of what, in
the natural and established order of things, would take
place.   At first view, this objection appears formidable,
the more so from the show of philosophy which it assumes.
It is hardly necessary, as some writers have done, to bring
forward an array of arguments drawn from science, in
order to meet this objection. In this case, perhaps, as in
many others, the best answer is the simplest and most obvious. It is this: He who lays out the plan of the universe and establishes its laws, takes into view the whole
series of events; in this series of events, every prayer
which we offer, every desire we breathe, has its fixed place
and influence, was foreseen, and its effect determined, from
the outset. We are not, therefore, in reality asking God
to change the course of events, or the plan of the universe,
when we offer to him our prayers, since those prayers are
themselves a part of the established order. Dr. Whewell has well expressed this:  "In the spiritual world,
the prayers of believers are events as real as their temptations, their deliverance, their forgiveness; and the former
events may very naturally be conceived to produce an
effect upon the latter. There is, therefore, in such prayers,
nothing inconsistent with our belief in God's goodness and
wisdom." To this he adds, what is doubtless true, that
when we ask for temporal blessings, as for our daily bread,
our prayers are rather an expression of our dependence on
God, than of a desire that he would direct the course of
the world according to our wishes.
Of the real efficacy and value of prayer, we have the
highest assurance, both in the encouragement to this duty
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which is presented in the sacred Scriptures, and also the
actual experience of its benefits by believers in all ages.
Argumeitfrom Scripture. - The efficacy and duty of
prayer are set forth in the Scriptures in the plainest light.
"Ask and it shall be given you, seek and ye shall find,"
is the language and spirit of the whole Bible.  What can
be more explicit than this language - and the like everywhere abounds in sacred writings- as to the real efficacy
and use of prayer? Besides the general instructions and
precepts which enjoin the duty of prayer, there are specific
directions given as to the various objects for which we
may properly ask. Examples also are given of prayer for
specific objects, for private and for public benefits, for the
remission of sins, for deliverance from temporal evils, and
for whatever the soul of man most earnestly desires. And
not only have we instances of prayer in the Scriptures,
but of answers to prayer, and those almost innumerable.
We are not presented with precepts and examples merely,
but with manifest and practical results. That God answers the prayers of his children, and has done this in
manifold ways, and instances too many to be repeated
and too obvious to be mistaken, is as much a matter of history as any event recorded in sacred or profane annals.
Peter prayed, and the prison doors were opened, and
his chains fell off. Joshua prayed, and the sun stood still
over Gibeon, and the moon over the valley of Ajalon.
Elijah prayed, and the child of the Shunamite was restored to life. Moses prayed, and the Lord forgave the
iniquity of Israel. Again and again, in answer to his
supplications, plague, and pestilence, and the swift judgments of Heaven were stayed, and the people saved.
Christ prayed, and an angel stood at his side to comfort
and strengthen him.
From Christian Experience.- Nor is it from Scripture
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OF WORSHIP.
alone that we derive evidence of the efficacy and value
of prayer. The history of God's people in all ages and
all times, the history of the renewed heart wherever found,
is to the same effect. Whoever, in humble, earnest supplication, in a filial spirit, and with true faith, goes to God for
those things which he desires, and which are proper objects
of prayer, usually, it is not too much to say, receives that
for which hlie asks. -I do not say always; for it is possible
that those things which we desire may not be in accordance with the divine will. Infinite Wisdom may perceive
that it is not best on the whole, or best even for us, that
the desire should be granted. Still the rule stands, notwithstanding all exceptions, that he who askethl anything
of God, believing, shall receive.
Why Enoine(. - If we ask, now, why such a practice
is enjoined in the Scriptures, why prayer is made a duty,
when doubtless the same blessings might be conferred without the asking, it may be sufficient to reply, that it is dtue
to the Supreme Ruler of events that we should in this
manner recognize his sovereign sway, and our entire dependence on him for all the mercies of life. He will be
inquired of for these things. The good and wise father
may choose that his child shall ask for that which he is
ready to bestow. It is right andl fitting that the child
should do so.
Sutch a procedure is of service also to the petitioner. It
keeps alive in him the sense of his constant dependence on
his God, which he might otherwise be ready to forget. It
reminds him of the source whence all his blessings flow,
and of his constant need of divine guidance and protection.
It prepares him also to receive with gratefuil heart those
fiavors which he asks, and to enjoy their reception so much
the more as gifts from his Heavenly Father, in answer to
his prayer,
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~ II. OF THE SABBATH.
If it is our duty, as we have already seen, to worship
God, it would seem to be desirable and proper that there
should be stated times for this worship.  The observance
of special days and occasions for this purpose, seems to be
the dictate at once of reason and of natural religion, as
indicated in the practice of all nations. Differences of
opinion may exist as to the number and firequency of these
occasions, and the proper method of their observance; but
no nation, it may safely be affirmed, that recognizes any
religion, and any Deity, fails to consecrate to its religion
and its God some special time as sacred to his worship.
In treating this subject, it may be well to consider the
presumption in favor of a Sabbath; the authority of the
Sabbath as a positiye institution; and( also, very briefly, the
p:~roper rnaner of observing it.
1. PRESITMPTION IN FAvoR  OF A SABr,ATII.- It is a
strong presumption in favor of a Sabbath, that some occasion of this kind is desirable, if not absolutely necessary,
as a period of rest, both for man and beast, from the ordinary toil of life.  If this be so, then the usefulness of the
occasion is certainly an argument in its favor, iand goes to
establish the duty of its observance. It is a well-ascertained fict, that both body and mind require intervals of
relaxation from  accustomed toil.  Facts show  that the
physical system requires such rest, and that its energies are
exhausted, and its vital powers impaired, when this law is
disregar(led. It is equally true of the mental faculties.
Not only will more intellectual labor be accomplished by
the faithfiil adherence to this law of occasional rest, but it
will be accomplished with less injllry to the physical and
mental constitution, with less waste of vigor and of life.
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These facts are so fully attested by scientific observation
and general experience, and are now so generally known
and admitted, that it is not necessary, in this connection, to
enter into any argument to establish them.
It is not merely useful to the laborer to rest for the time
being from his toil, but the pl)osl)ect of a day of rest and
recreation approaching, refreshes and encourages him amid
the labors of the week. Nor is it the body only that feels
the refreshing influence.  The mind, no less than the body,
requires relaxation, and that change of employment which
the Sabbath brings. True, the mind is never absolutely
inactive; the rest which it needs is change of occupation,
and not entire cessation of tlhough,t; but this change it
does need, and precisely this the S:tbba.th furnishes, by
directing our thoughts to objects which do not so fully
come before them during the labors of the week.
The influence of the Sabbath is in this way very considerable as an agent in prolmoting the happiness and civilization of the community.  By affording intervals of rest and
relief from the toils and cares of business, and the weariness of labor, it adds not merely to the physical and mental vigor, but to the sum of domestic and social enjoyment. It gives the busy laborer a day at homne with his
own family, and throws the refining and elevating influence of social intercourse over many a mind, that would
be otherwise shut up to the drudgery of constant toil.
vNeeded for Moral and -Religious Culture.- But it is
chiefly as an opportunity of moral and religious culture,
that the Sabbath is of advantage to man.  Employed, as
most men are, during the week, with atetive labor, whether
of body or of mind, there is little leisure or inclination for
religious thought, for self-culture and discipline, for progress in the knowledge of divine truth and in the way to
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OF WORSHIP.
heaven. Were there no pause in this hurried march of life,
no cessation from the din and uproar of the ever-moving
machinery of worldly toil, there is danger that from most
minds the thoughts of a higher life, and a purer state of
existence, would quite fade away, and men would become
mere animals and beast of burden, intent only on the gratifications, or busied only with the drudgery, of the present
hour,- knowing and caring for nothing beyond.
For all this, the periodical recurrence of the Sabbath, as
a day specially devoted to moral and religious culture,
and to the worship of God, affords the true, and, as I am
inclined to think, the only practicable remedy. It calls
the thoughts from other and merely secular employments,
and invites us to the contemplation of those higher truths
which concern our permanent and fiuture well-being. As
a matter of fact, it will be found that very little progress
is made in religious culture, either by the individual, or by
the nation, that dispenses entirely with the observance of
the Sabbath as a day sacred to divine things.
Xeeded for Social Worship. - Such a day is needed,
moreover, not only for individual improvement, but for
social worship. If men are to meet together for the worship of God, and for instruction in religious truth, it is
quite necessary that some set time and place should be
appointed for the purpose, and that the worship should
recur at regular intervals, so that all may know when and
where the religious assembly is to be held, and arrange
their affairs accordingly. The Sabbath provides for this.
When the appointed dlay returns, every one knows that it
is a day set apart for religious purposes; that the ordinary business of life is for the while suspended; that the
occupations of the shop, the desk. the counting-roomt, the
field, the mill, are, by general consent, laid aside; and that
men will assemble on that day for religious instruction
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and worship. In consequence of this general understand
ing, men will not be seeking for us in our places of business, while we are engaged in public worship.  Nor shall
we, in turn, find the business of the week interrupted by
the religious observances of our neighbors. If there is to
be any such thing as social religious worship, it is manifestly for the convenience of all, if not an indispensable
necessity, that one and the same time should be observed,
so far as possible, by all persons, for this purpose. For
this, also, the Sabbath provides, and it is probably not too
much to say, that, were the observance of this day dispensed with, public assemblies for religious worship would
not long continue to be maintained in any country. There
being no special time appropriated to that purpose, any
time that might be selected would be found inconvenient,
and gradually the practice of coming together for tlhe
worship of God in public assembly would go out of use.
The reasons which have been mentioned are sufficient
to show the use and great advantage of a Sabbath to the
individual and to the community, and in this way they
create a strong presumption in favor of such an institution.
O'ection..- It is sometimes objected to the view now
taken, that the observance of one day in seven as a period
of rest, and of religious worship, is a serious loss to the
community, by subtracting so much firom the industry and
available wealth of the nation. It is a loss of one-seventh
of the time, and so of one-seventh of the resources of the
laboring classes. This is entirely a mistake. It has already
been stated, that both the physical and the mental constitution absolutely require rest; and that continuous labor,
without interval of repose or change of occupation, wears
out the system, and induces premature decay. This is
true both of man and beast, both of him who works with
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OF WORSHIP.
the hands, and of him who toils with the brain. If this
be so, the periodical recurrence of a day of rest, so far
from being a loss, is really a gain to the laborer, and to the
whole community. One might as well complain that the
time devoted to sleep, or to the taking of food, are so
mnany hours lost out of every twenty-four; that, were it
not for this unfortunate and needless delay, men might
work twenty hours instead of ten, and so double the
amount of their present earnings. Doubtless this might
be done for a time; but it would be for a short time, and
would prove no gain in the end. Nature demands rest and
refieshment; and whoeverviolates these fundamental laws
of his constitution, and, under the pressure and excitement
of business denies himself needfill sleep, or needful food,
or needful rest and recreation, finds himself a loser by the
experiment.  It is consuming the principal, for the sake of
gaining higher interest; it is throwing away the sails, in
order to increase the speed of the ship.
It is to be remembered, also, that even if nature could endure uninterrupted toil,-which, as at present constituted,
it cannot,-the addition of an extra day of labor to the six
now employed, would be quite likely to reduce the price
of labor, leaving the workman no better pay at the end of
the week than he has now, but obliging him to work seven
days for it, instead of six. This would be all he would
gain.
2. INSTITUTION AND AUTHORITY OF  THE SABBATH. -
For reasons now stated, we need a Sabbath, and should be
under the necessity of observing one, out of regard to our
own best interests, even if none had been appointed by
divine authority.  It is certainly fair to presumne, however, that one has been appointed, inasmuch as the reasons
for it are so weighty. It is not probable that Divine Wis
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OF WORSHIP.
dom and Benevolence would overlook so important  an
iteim in the economy of human affairs,-would give man a
nature requiring a Sabbath as a day of rest firom toil, a
day of social and domestic enjoyment, of individual moral
culture, and of public worship, and not give him also the
Sabbath itself. This would be much the same as if Deity
were to create man with an appetite, and not supply the
food adapted to its craving; or with a disposition for
sleep, and make no provision for hours suitable for repose.
But, if a Sabbath has been instituted, then wvhe) and
wvhere?  We  find a day actually observed by all Christian nations as a Sabbath, claiming to be such an instittition, and regarded, by many at least, as of divine authority.
The question is, Ilas it such authority? Is the Christian
Sabbath, in other words, either directly or indirectly an
institution of divine appointment?
TVhtt Authority for any -Day. -  We shall best answer
this inquiry, by first raising the previous question, What
authority is there for the observance of any day as a Sabbathl? Is there any evidence that God has ever appointed
any day for this purpose, with a view to its general observance by the human family?
I reply: there is reason to believe that he has. There
is reason to believe that at the very outset, at the creation of our world and our race, the Creator set apart one
day in seven as sacred to himself, to be observed by man,
in all his generations and families, as a day of worship
and of rest.  The sacred narrative informs us that "on
the seventh day God ended his work which hlie had made;
and he rested on the seventh day from all his work whicl)
he had made; and God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because that in it he had rested firom all his work
which God created and made." Now it must be conceded
that this passage, though not in manner and form a divine
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commnand to observe every seventh day, is at least a
history of the institution of the Sabbath, and presents,
at the same time, the reason why the day was thus set
apart. It was thus consecrated, because on that day God
had rested from all his work. Now the reason, it will be
observed, is of a general nature - applicable as much to all
times and nations, as to any one. It was not a reason
why the Jews should observe the day, any more than why
we should observe it. The institution, as then originated,
could not have been intended for the Jews especially;
for the Jews, as a nation, were not in existence until some
two thousand years afterwards.   The fact that it was
instituted at the beginning, as well as the reason assigned
for its institution, both show conclusively that it was designed for all nations, and all ages of the world.
Paley's View.- I am aware that eminent authorities
have taken the ground that the Sabbath was not in reality
instituted at the creation, but that the passage referred
to merely assigns a reason, by way of anticipation, for
an institution which came into existence hundreds of
years after; that is, when the Israelites were in the wilderness, on their way from Egypt to Palestine. This is
the view of Dr. Paley, among others.  He  infeis this
from the silence of the sacred narrative as to any such
institution or observance, through all- the intervening
periods of history from the creation down to the exodus
of the children of Israel,-.a period of some twenty-five
hundred years, -during which godly men without numbelr lived, keeping the divine precepts diligently,- and
doubtless this among the rest, if any such precept or
institution was in existence, - and yet not the remotest
:illusion do we find to any such observance during all
this time. This silence he regards as unaccountable, on
the supposition that all this while the Sabbath  w.as ii
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existence as a positive institution. Hence he infers that
the transaction recorded in the sixteenth chapter of Exodus is the first actual institution of the Sabbath.
The transaction to which he refers is the gathering of
the manna in the wilderness, a double quantity of which
was gathered on the sixth day: "And all the rulers of
the congregation came and told Moses; and he said unto
thiem, This is that which the Lord hath said: To-morrowe is the rest of the holy Sabbath unto the Lord."
Now, by referring to the narrative, it will be seen that
thl(ie is nothing here which wears the aspect of a new
institution,- no command to observe an ordinance just
tlhei for the first time promulgated, but simply a reason
assigned for the circumstance that a double portion of
food was provided on that day, which reason was, that
" to-morrow is the Sabbath," as if the simple mention of
that fact would be sufficient to explain the whole thing.
This is certainly not the way ill which any person at the
]hcad of government would be likely to announce a new
, or to establish a new institution.  It looks rather as
if the Sabbath was an institution already well known to
thle people, and which needed only to be mentioned, in
order to be understood at once as a reason why they
were not to gather manna on that as on other days.
And so unquestionably it was. The division of time
into weeks of seven days, is one of the earliest monuments
'of antiquity of which we have any record. It was the
custom of the oriental nations firom the very earliest
period,- a custom prevalent in India, China, Arabia,
Egypt, and Assyria, - and, not improbably, derived from
the Jewish patriarchs, and so to be traced back to the
original institution of the Sabbath at the creation.  Astronominers pronounce the week to be the most ancient
monument of astronomical knowledge.   It  must have
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OF WORSHIP.
existed in Egypt at the time the Israelites dwelt there;
and whatever may be the origin of the custom, whether
derived firom  the Jewish patriarchs, and firom  the institution of the Sabbath in Eden, or not, the simple faict
that it was so ancient and so universal a custom thus
to divide the time into periods of seven days, and that
it was a custom with which the Israelites must have become familiar during their stay in Egypt, if never before,
shows that it cannot have been a new institution at the
time of which we speak. The rest of the seventh day
is of earlier origin than the exodus of the Israelites, and
the 3Mosaic institution, and there is every reason to regard
it as having its source in the first revelation of the divine
will ever made to man.
The Jewish Sabbath.- I am far from supposing, however, that the Jewish Sabbath, as such,- that which was
specially given to the Israelites in the wilderness, whether
it was then first enacted, or only reenacted, and made a
special ordinance, along with many others, for that peo
ple, - is an institution binding upon us. I claim for the
Sabbath, as a divine institution, another and an earlier
origin, a broader foundation, and a more  universal design, than pertained to the Sabbath of the Mosaic institution. The Jewish, or Mosaic Sabbath, is always spoken
of as a sign between God and the people of Israel:
"Moreover, also, I gave them my Sabbath to be a sign
between me  and them;"  which implies that it was a
pecuiliar ordinance, not common  to all nations, but a
special institution designed for that one people. Otherwise it would have no significance as a sign, any more
than the rising and setting of the sun, or any other wellknown phenomenon common to all nations and ages of
the world. Now, a Sabbath was, as I have shown, no
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new institution, but common to all the oriental world
It could not, therefore, as such, constitute a special sign
between God and the people of Israel.  That sign- the
Jewish Sabbath —was not the universal Sabbath, instituited at the creation, and designed for all nations and
times, but a special and peculiar institution, designed for
the Jews alone - a part of their ceremonial observances,
of the same general character with their other sacred
days and feasts, as of unleavened bread, of pentecost,
and other similar occasions prescribed in the ritual.  Its
duties were peculiar. It was to be observed most strictly
as a day of entire rest from all physical labor.  This, and
not religious worship, was the essential and prominent
idea of the day, although both were, of course, included
in its observance.   The penalties for its violation were
also peculiar.   The  least infringement upon  its sacred
hours, even for the preparation of the daily food, or the
making a fire, was punishable, and actually punished, with
death.   Now,  an institution thus peculiar in its design
and purpose, in its duties and its penalties, cannot well
be regarded as binding on other nations and times than
that to which it was specially given, and for whom it was
specially intended;  otherwise we  should be bound to
regard not only the institution, but the specific day, the
specific purpose, the specific duties and manner of observance, and the peculiar penalties, as likewise in force, and
binding upon us. While, therefore, I regard the Sabbath
as a divine institution, designed for all nations and ages
of the world, and instituted at the beginning, I cannot
regard the Tetwish Sabbath as identical with the universal
and original one, but rather as a peculiar ordinance, hav
inmg its specific design and its peculiar duties, and which,
as such, and so far as it was Tewish, passed out of exist
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ence along with the whole ceremonial of which it was a
part.
Authority of the Christian Sabbath. - We are ready
now to inquire what authority there is for the observance
of the Christian Sabbath. We have seen that both nature
and revelation point to the propriety and duty of observ
ing one day in seven as a day of rest and of worship. We
must regard such observance, then, as a divine institution.
But what day shall it be, and in what manner shall it be
observed? As to this, we have found as yet no direction.
We  have no reason to suppose, as I have already shown,
that the Jewish Sabbath is binding on us, either as regards the day of the week, or the duties and manner of
observance.  We are at liberty, then, to adopt any other.
We find in the Scriptures no commnand on this point.
NVe find, however, in almost universal use among Christian nations the observance of the first day of the week
as a dlay sacred to religious purposes.  We  traice back
this usage to the very earliest period of the Christian
Church.  We find traces of it among the early disciples to
the Christian faith, in the first centuries of its eventfill
history.  We  find in the New Testament allusions to the
custom as then existing; mention, for example, of meetings of the Christian disciples on that day, for religious
worship, and that in repeated instances. We infer that
the observance of that day has at least the authority of
apostolic usage, if not of any more direct and positive
institution. There is in this a presumption, to say the
least, that it may have something more than the sanction
of early and general Christian usage - that it may lhave,
in some sense, what it is generally understood to claim, the
express sanction and authority of the inspired teachers and
founders of the Christian faith. Still, it must be conceded,
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OF WORSHIP.
the observance of that day, rather than any other, rests
,upon no positive command.  The  custom of Christian
nations, the early and apparen tly apostolic usage,  and the
evident  reaso nabl    eness  of the  usage, as a fit and proper
tribute of respect to that great event, on which hang the
hopes and destinies of the world,-the resurrection of our
Lord, -constitute a sufficient basis and warrant for the
observance, on our part, of the first day of the week as our
Christian Sabbath.  When asked, then, what is our authority for observing the first day of the week as a day of rest
and of religious worship, we rep)ly: The law of nature, and
the divine sanction, both point to the duty of keeping
some day, one day in seven, as sacred to religious uses;
while custom, and the universal consent of Christian nations firom the earliest times, as well as the great event
commemorated, point to this day in particular as the one
most appropriate for such observance.  On these general
grounds we are content to rest the matter.
3. THE PROPER MANNER OF OBSERVING THE SABBATII.
- The reasons for which the Sabbatli exists, and which led
to its institution, are the proper guide to its right observance.  We are under obligation to make such use of it as
shall best conduce to those ends for which it was appointed,
and thus c'ry out its great design. Whatever does this,
is a right use of the Sabbath; whatever fails of this, how
ever seemly and sacred in appearance, is a perversion of its
true meaning and intent.
And first, the natural, though not of necessity the chief
reason, for the observance of the Sabbath, must not be
overlooked.  Nature demands it as a day of rest. So far as
possible,-so far, that is, as may consist with the ili(ccesslry
duties of life, and with the higher l)urlposes of the daly,- it
should be observed as a day of entire cessation fi'om the
357
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t
I 
OF WORSHIP.
ordinary pursuits and occupations, - a day of rest both to
body and to mind.  Not even religious services should be
so multiplied, or so conducted, as to set aside and supersede
this first law of the Sabbath. If in any manner, or by
any mode of observance, the day becomes as laborious and
exhausting to the powers of body and mind as other days
of the week, it is no longer, in the proper sense, a Sabbath,
whatever else it may be.
But it is certainly not the whole design of the Sabbath
that it should be a period of rest. It is a day given for
ifnlividual mnoral and religiouts culture; given for this
purpose to every man, as individually responsible for his
own moral improvement, and as needing for this purpose
time for religious meditation, and for direct intercourse
with the Divine Being. To this end the day is given, - a
day of which the special and proper business is that now
indicated; given to every-man as his sacred right, which
no man may take from him, and which he has no right to
take from himself, by any occupation inconsistent with the
purpose of the day.  Not even public religious observances
should be allowed to deprive us of this individual use anl
benefit of the Sabbath, as a means of personal religious
culture.
We are not, however, to overlook the public worship of
(God in the solemn assembly. This is one, and one of the
most obvious and important, of the appropriate duties of
the Sabbath.  It should have its place, but it should not
be allowed to usurp the time which belongs to other and
equally important duties.
In a word, the Sabbath is a day of sacred rest, and of
religious worship; and whoever thus employs it, employs
it aright.
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I
CONFLICT OF DUTIES.
IN the preceding pages on Practical Ethics, we  have
discussed the duties which p)ertain more directly to self,
to society, to the family, to the state, and to God. It may
sometimes hal)pen that, of these several classes, some one
may present claims apparently in conflict with those of
another.   How  shall these conflicting claims  be reconciled?  Which  shall we obey?   This is a question of
some moment in practical ethics, and its brief consi(lderation may fitly conclude our discussion of this department
of the science.
Strictly speaking, there can be no such thing as a conflict of duties. Duties are never in collision; obligations
never clash.  There is one, and but one, righlit thing to be
done; one, and but one, right course to pursue, all things
considered; and whatever is in conflict with this, is not.
and cannot be, a duty, whatever may seem to be its claims.
The  will of God, which  is the rule of duty to man,
whether as given in nature and the constitution of things,
or in revelation, is always consistent with itself.  Hence,
to oie and the same person, at one and the same moment,
the path of duty never lies in opposite directions.
Cases of apparent Conflict.- It is often difficult, neNveitheless, to determine what is the path of duty. Opposite 
CONFLICT OF D)UTIES
courses, which bear at least the semblance of obligation,
present their claims; and these claims are often in conflict with each other. It is, for example, my duty as a good citi
zen to respect and honoi the state.  But, suppose the state
is not a proper object of respect, - its laws unjust, its pole
icy dishonorable, its whole character discreditable, - am I
still to honor and respect it?
It is my duty as a citizen to support the government of
my country by my influence, and, if necessary, by my per sonal service. But, suppose it is engaged in an unjust and
iniquitous war, or in measures revolting to sentiments of
honor and justice, and the claims of humanity- ani I still
to n.maintain and defend it, on the principle, "My country - right or wrong?"
In like manner, the duties of a parent to his family may
seem to be inconsistent with those services which are due
to society and the state, or with those which he owes to
himself. HIe is under obligation to provide for his own
household.   To do this effectually, may  at times, and
under the pressure of peculiar circumstances, require an
amount of exertion inconsistent with a due regard to the
laws of life and health. Shall he disregard the latter, in
his anxiety to secure the former?
It is the duty of the child to honor and obey the parent.
But, suppose the parent to be a wretched victim of intern.
perance and vice-how can the child honor and respect
such a parent? Or, suppose the commands of the parent to
run counter to those of God - is the child, in such a case,
absolved from the obligation of filial obedience? or is he
to obey, whatever the command may be?  In general, sup])ose the laws of the family, or of the state, to conflict
with the dictates of conscience and the laws of God,
which shall be obeyed- God or man?
A  General Rule.- These are cases not  unlikely'
360 
CONFLICT OF DUTIES.
occur, and which, in fact, fi'equently do occur, in the course
of events.  The)y are questions of practical nmoment.  It
is difficult to lay down rules that shall meet all such cases.
Without attemnpting to do this, it may, I think, be taken as
a general rule, al)plicable to all such matters, that wlerei
there are conflicting claims, the preference is to be giv en
to those which are in themselves the higher and the more
important, which proceed fi'oni and rest upon the highest
authority.  Tlhus, the interests of society are wider, and its
welfare of more coinsequence, than those of self.  So, also,
with the interests of the family; they are more and higher
thein those of the individual.  The authority of the state
is supei'ioi. to the authority of the parent, and, other things
beiag equal, is entitled, in consequence, to superior re.gard.
It is an autholity comnprehensive, in a measure, of the
,tlielr. On the samue principle, and a fortiori, the claims
and authority of God are comprehensive of and superior
to all others; and iwhere they come in conflict with the
claims and(l authority of man, whether in society, in the
family, or in the state, all such claims and obligations
become null and void, and the law of God alone is binding.
On no other principle can we justify any instance of disobedience to unjust and wicked legislation; as, for example, the refusal of Daniel to comply with the edict which
forbade,   for a       given time, the worship of any God; the
refu      sal   of the three Jewish governors to fall down and
worsh        ip  the golden image that Nebuchadnezzar had set ll)
on the plai         n         of Dura;  the refusal of the apostles to preach
no more in the name of Christ, as ordered by the magistrates; the                   refusal of the early Christians  to abjure
fa    ith in Chr    ist, and  burn incense to heathen gods.   The
whole history of the Christian Church, of sacrifice and
suffi        ering and death for the faith and the truth, is a practi            ZD~~~~3
31
361
i 
CONFLICT' OF DUTIES.
cal recognition of this great principle. There had been no
martyrs but for this higher law.
It is important to be borne in mind, however, in all such
cases of opposing and contradictory claims, that we are
justified in refuising obedience to the plain and positive
commands of those in authority, whether parents or ruleris,
only when such commands are plainly and unquestionably
in conflict with the divine precepts. The case should be a
plain one. If it be not so, -if-there be room for reasonable doubt whether, after all, there is any real discrepancy
between the two authorities, the divine and the human, —
we are not, as it seems to me, merely on the strengthl of
that doubt and uncertainty, to set aside the direct anud
positive demands of human legislation.  Much less are we
to set up our own notions as law, and slide into the belief
that, because a given course is highlyv pleasing or dlispleasing to us, it is equally so to the divine mind.  Our inclinations and prejudices may, or may not, be coincident with
truth, and the divine will. At all events, they are not
our guide.
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I 
AUTHORITIES.
THE following works may be consulted with profit by tlte
critical reader, who wishes to acquaint himself with thl)e lit
erature of the department.
ENGLISH AUTHORS.
Paley. - Moral Philosophy.
Whewell. - Elements of Morality.
Cudworth.- Eternal and Immutable Moralitv.
Stewart.- Active and Moral Powers.
Reid.- Essays on the Active Powers.
Cogan. - Ethical Treatise.
"      Ethical Questions.
Smith, Adam.- Theory of Moral Sentiments.
Cudtvorth.- Intellectual System.
Price (Dr. R.).- Review of Morals.
1"     "        Dissertations.
Hutcheson.- Inquiry into the Ideas of Beauty and Virtue.
Taylor (Dr. J.). - Examination of do.
",' ~"      Sketch of Moral Philosophy.
Ferguson (Dr. A.).- Institutes of Moral Philosophy.
Campbell (Dr. Arch.). - Inquiry into the Original of Moral Virtno
I 
A UT l ORIT IES.
Hume (David).- Treatise of Human Nature.
"    "       IInquiry concerning the Principles of Morality.
Butler.- Sermons on Human Nature.
Abererombie (J.).- Philosophy of the Moral Feelings.
Hampden (R.). - Lectures on Moral Philosophy.
M'Cosh. -Divine Government.
Shafiesbury.- Inquiry Concerning Virtue.
Warburton.- Divine Legation.
Clark, Samuel.- Evidence of Natural and Revealed Religion.
Hobbes. -Leviathan.
Bentham.- Principles of Morals and Legislation.
"      Deontology.
Taylor, Jeremy. - Rule of Conscience
More, Henry. -Euchiridion Ethicum.
AMERICAN AUTHORS.
Wayland.- Elements of Moral Science.
Hickok.- System of Moral Science.
Winslow.- Elements of Moral Philosopny.
Alexander.- Moral Philosophy.
Bowen (Fr.).- Metaphysics and Ethics.
Mahan. - Moral Philosophy.
Edwards (President).- The Nature of True Virtue.
GREEK AUTHORS.
Plato.- Opera (Ed. Stallb)aum), especially Crito, Phoedo, Republic,
and Gorgias; CEuvres, Traduites par Cousin; also, English editions by
Gary and by Taylor.
Aristotle. - Ethicoruiim and Nicomachum  libri.  Ethics  and  Politcs,
translated by Gillies. Also, Ethics, translated by Browne, and do. by
Taylor.
364
e. 
A U THORIT1E,S.
Cicero.- De Officiis.
Tiscnlani;  Disputationes.
Dc Legibus.
FRENCH AUTHORS.
CoIIsini.   - (Evres completes.
Fragmencs Pliilosol)liques.
Psychlolo,gy (Tr. Ieniry).
"  The True, thle Beautiful, and the Good.
D, )iroo. - Cours dc Phlilosophice- Morale.
I).s, trt-s.- (ELnvres Coinpletes (,, asin), cspe~:.illy,
"   AMeditations - Discoturs de la MAtliode.
.J,,,/;roy. - Noveaux MAelan,'cs Philosophl iqtles.
"   Introduction to Etllics (Tr. Chlianning).
[ti t,br(otiice. - Reclierelche de la Verite.
"    Traite de Morale.
Aaictd  Jacqtes..-Man. de Pliil. at l'usage des coll.
l)iectioiiiiire des Sciences Philosophiiques - art. Morale.
GERMIAN AUTHORS.
K(t(tt.- Werke (Heransg. von Rosenkrantz).
Critik der Urtheilskraft.
"Metaphylsik der sitten; also,
AeIctaplhysics of Ethics (transl. Semple).
"  Reclitslehlre.
J(a(ob)i.- Werke.
RoscaA)rmit:.- Psychologie, oder (lie WVissench. vo. subj. Geist
[IJcel. - Werke, vollstnndige Aslc)e.
" Enecyclopiiadic der Wissenehaliften.
Schelih'g. - Philosoph ische Schliriften.
Leibnzitz. - Werke.
"       Novcaux Essais.
86:1
i
I
LATIN AUTHORS. 
AUT H ORITIE S.
On Civil Governmenit, and Duties to the State, the fold
lowingi  works may be consulted:
Plato.- Repbl)lic and Laws.  Crito.
Aristotle. - Politics.
Cicero. - De Repul).
Montesq?ie?. - Spirit of Laws.
Brlt7(oiiaquii. - Principles of Natural and Political Law
PtIffendorf. - Law of Nalture atid Nations.
Gognet. - Origin of Laws.
B(ieckstone. — Commentaries, Book L.
Locke. - Civil Governiment.
WiTines.- Commentary on Ilel)rew Laws -  Intro(ductory Elssay.
Constitution of the U nited States, and of the several States.
On the History of Ethical Opinions, the following are
the )principal autthorities:
C(,t.sin.- Lectures on Ilistory of Philosophy.
Ritte.r.- Iistory of Ancient lhlliloso)lly.
Schtct(gle?r. - (Seely-e TanI slt.) Ilistory of Philosophly.
Tevn?e))aonn. - (Jolisoii Trans.) M:inual of History of Philosophiy.
ftctcki?tolsh, Sir J. - Ethical  lliilosophy.
Ste?t-(rt, Dtigald. - Dissertationis on Ilistory of Philosophiy.
Tl7heit1l. - History of iMoral l'hilosophy in England.
Morell. - History of lPhilosophiy.
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